


AU-gust Challenge

by Gerec



Series: Tumblr Ficlets and One-Shots [5]
Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies)
Genre: 19th Century, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Fashion & Models, Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Mob, Alternate Universe - Tattoo Parlor, Angels vs. Demons, Arranged Marriage, Avengers Family, Bodyguard, Celebrities, Childhood Friends, College, Crime, Demon Hunters, Demons, Dude ranch, Fantasy, Firefighters, Florists, Future, Genital Piercing, Hospitals, IN SPACE!, Infidelity, Kid Fic, M/M, Mages, Misunderstandings, Modern, Modern Royalty, Monster Hunters, Nude Modeling, Paladins, Pirates, Possessive Behavior, Post-Apocalypse, Private Investigators, Professional Rivals, Rape/Non-con Elements, Reincarnation, Rock Band, Romance, Royalty, Secret Identity, Single Parents, Soulmates, Steampunk, Superheroes, Superpowers, The Old Guard AU, Vampires, Voyeurism, X-Men Apocalypse AU, treasure hunters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-09-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:06:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 30
Words: 26,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25749364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gerec/pseuds/Gerec
Summary: 31 AUs with various pairings:1. Fantasy AU, 2. College AU, 3. Soulmates AU, 4. Angels & Demons AU, 5. Post-Apocalyptic AU, 6. Hospital AU, 7. Childhood Friends AU, 8. Superheroes/Superpowers AU, 9. Royalty AU, 10. Pirates AU, 11. Farm/Ranch AU, 12. Crime AU, 13. Rock Band AU, 14. Vampire AU, 15. Modern AU, 16. Treasure Hunters AU, 17. Firefighters AU, 18. 19th Century AU, 19. Single Parents AU, 20. Professional Rivals + Futuristic AU (Part 1), 21. Professional Rivals + Futuristic AU (Part 2)22. Arranged Marriage AU - Shaw and his General Erik share omega!Charles23. Private Detective(s) AU - PD Charles is accused of Shaw's murder24. Steampunk AU - Erik seeks funding from the Duke for his adamantium factory25. Monster Hunters AU - Logan vows to save Charles from his vampire lover26. Flower Shop AU - Erik mistakes Raven and Charles as bride and groom27.NEWFashion & Models AU - Erik makes extra money selling nude photos28.NEWTattoo Parlor AU - Charles asks Erik about body piercing29.NEWBodyguard AU - Erik tells Dr. Xavier about a life altering decision30.NEWMagic AU - Dark Mage!Erik takes Paladin!Charles prisoner
Relationships: Erik Lehnsherr/Charles Xavier, Erik Lehnsherr/Logan (X-Men)/Charles Xavier, Erik Lehnsherr/Sebastian Shaw, Erik Lehnsherr/Sebastian Shaw/Charles Xavier, Logan (X-Men)/Charles Xavier, Sebastian Shaw/Charles Xavier, Steve Rogers/Charles Xavier
Series: Tumblr Ficlets and One-Shots [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/380124
Comments: 46
Kudos: 149





	1. Fantasy AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Fantasy AU: Inspired by 'The Old Guard'
> 
> Pairing: Cherik

A lot of strange shit has happened to Raven in the last forty eight hours – being shot, then waking up with her wound completely healed, and being poked and prodded by doctors who tell her that she _died_ and then somehow miraculously came back to life. It’s madness, and she still doesn’t know what she believes; if she’s been pumped full of drugs and hallucinating everything or she really is _immortal_ , like the ragtag group of four that came and whisked her out of metal cuffs and a locked room, to this little ‘safe house’ in Buenos Aires.

But none of it – finding out Erik’s ability to control metal, Logan’s claws and heightened senses, or Emma being a telepath and Azazel a teleporter with a vicious tail – beats waking up from that _fucking dream_ ; blue eyes behind that iron mask, screaming, _screaming_ as he sinks deeper and deeper into a sea of black.

Raven shivers, and tries very hard not to throw up her last meal.

“You saw him, didn’t you?” Emma asks, voice hoarse with emotion, a far cry from the aloof and unruffled persona she’s worn since their meeting. They’re all utterly gutted, the pain on their faces sharp and still so _raw_ , and Raven already knows she’ll regret answering before the words even come out of her mouth.

“I saw…eyes, a person, trapped inside an iron coffin under the sea,” she says, and it’s just as horrifying to think about and relay as it was to see it happen in her sleep. “He kept drowning, dying, then coming back to life. It was…” Raven shudders and has to take a deep breath to continue, “He was screaming, and bashing his fists and knees against the lid—”

“Stop.”

“—and he kept shouting a name--”

“ _Stop_.”

“—it was ‘Erik’. Over and over again.”

All the metal in the room is rattling, the pipes groaning inside the walls until Logan reaches over and grabs Erik’s shoulder, gripping it tight enough to leave a bruise. It’s enough to stop him from bringing the ceiling down on them, but not enough to sooth, or bring him back from whatever dark place he’s gone to in his head.

And not enough to stop him from rolling off his cot and storming out of the safe house without a word.

“I’m sorry,” she says, though she hasn’t done anything wrong really, and didn’t ask to be brought here, stolen from her life by a bunch of strangers.

“Don’t mind him,” Logan mutters, stumbling up and over to the tiny bar fridge to grab a beer. He pops the tab on his can and downs half of it, then offers it to Raven who shakes her head. “He’s never gotten over what happened. None of us have, but him most of all.”

“Who was he?” Raven asks, remembering the fear she felt from the man in her dream. He seemed…insane, his thoughts tinged with bitterness and rage, so potent that Raven can still feel the echo of it in her brain. “ _What_ was he?”

 _“_ His name was Charles,” Azazel answers, after a shared look between the others that Raven can’t decipher. “He was the first of us; the first immortal. And the one who found us and brought us together.”


	2. College AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 2\. College AU: Charles wants to forget about his ex-boyfriend Erik
> 
> Pairing: Cherik, Xavierine

Charles is on his fourth drink before Moira finally returns, dragging somebody through the crowd of bodies on the makeshift dance floor. The only reason he’s still here is because she promised to introduce him to her very hot study partner from Econ, and so he can drink himself stupid, and forget about the fact that he and Erik have mutually agreed to take a break from their on again, off again – and now definitely off again – relationship. By all accounts Erik has already moved on with somebody new, according to Emma, who saw him with his arm around a pretty brunette, kissing outside the coffee shop they all frequent…

He downs the last of his lukewarm beer, resolved to get himself spectacularly laid tonight, and try to forget about Erik and his stupid, impossibly gorgeous face.

“Charles, there you are!” Moira shouts in his ear, trying to make herself heard over the horrible electronica lambasting the room. She yanks on the arm she’s been holding behind her, tugging the rest of its owner in front of Charles with a triumphant grin. “This is Logan! He’s the guy I was telling you about!”

Even if he wasn’t already well on his way to getting pissed drunk, ‘Logan’ would still be blistering _hot,_ all muscle and sweat under a beat up leather motorcycle jacket and tight jeans that do nothing to hide an impressive bulge. He’s exactly what Charles needs tonight, and he’s going to buy Moira coffee for the entire _month_ if Logan turns out to be as good a fuck as he looks.

Of course the anticipation is ruined not a moment later, when someone coming into the room catches his eye; his ex, holding his drink above his head as he makes his way after Azazel into the roiling mass. Erik’s eyes are sweeping the room like he’s searching for someone in particular – his _new girlfriend_ , Charles assumes, swallowing the bitterness in the back of his throat – and counts maybe another three seconds before he’ll turn his head and see Charles camped out over by the drinks table.

Well, if Erik’s going to appear out of nowhere and ruin his fun, he’ll be damned if he doesn’t take the opportunity to put on a good show.

He grins, giving Logan his sultriest, ‘come fuck me’ look and yanks him into a dirty, open mouthed kiss that might be too graphic for a porno.

“Well I guess my work here is done then,” Moira says, and only laughs at him when Charles waves her away with a flailing hand. It turns out that Logan is a fucking _fantastic_ kisser, and is seemingly one hundred percent on board following his lead, wrapping his hands around Charles’ ass and backing him up until he’s pressed flush against the wall. Frankly, it’s so unexpectedly good that he completely forgets about his ex, that is until Erik is suddenly _right there_ and looking like he wants to commit a murder most violent.

Sensing Charles’ distraction, Logan pulls away reluctantly and turns to glance over his shoulder. He takes one look at a seething Erik and gives him a baleful glare. “What do you want, Lehnsherr? I’m kinda of busy here.”

To say that he’s ‘surprised’ by Logan’s greeting would be the bloody understatement of the night. “Wait, wait,” Charles says, “do you two know each other?”

“Logan and I work together,” Erik says with gritted teeth, and Charles doesn’t know which of them he wants to throttle more, judging by the icy chill in his voice. “I didn’t know you two were dating.”

“Why the fuck you do you care who I’m dating?” Logan growls, clearly annoyed by Erik’s attitude until Charles sees his eyes go wide and the light bulb practically going off in his head. “Not that it’s any of your business, bub, but Chuck and I have been seeing each other now for a couple of weeks.”

Erik’s nostrils flare and his eyes narrow, flickering down to where Logan is copping a very thorough feel of Charles’ butt. “Have you?”

He would feel bad for lying about Logan, if not for the fact that one - Logan’s the one doing all the talking (and needling); two – that Erik was the one to call it quits and three – if he wasn’t being such a jealous, possessive bastard when he’s the one with a girlfriend already, not even a month after their split.

“We have,” he says, and leans in just a little closer, so Erik can’t miss hearing him over the party noise. “The sex is fucking _amazing,_ and he’s got a bigger dick _._ ”

Then he grabs Logan by the arm and yanks him towards the exit, determined to get Erik out of his system even if it kills him.


	3. Soulmates AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 3\. Soulmates AU: An old painting leads to a chance meeting with destiny.
> 
> Pairing: Cherik

_“You should go see the painting, Charles. I’m sure you’ll find it extremely…intriguing.”_

That was the message Raven left on his voicemail yesterday, a cryptic tease about a new work exhibiting at the Frick. Specifically that he should see the one by Max Eisenhardt, renowned 16th century Renaissance painter, recently donated to the museum by his descendants from their private collection.

He didn’t understand Raven’s insistence until now, as he’s staring up at the portrait of a young man bearing his face. It steals his breath away, the uncanny resemblance, and something like longing tugs painfully at his chest; whoever the subject was, he must have been greatly beloved by the artist. Every brush stroke is lovingly made, the soft lighting and colors combining to capture the man with an almost angelic quality. He wonders if the two had been soulmates, living together all those centuries ago, doomed to hide a connection that had yet to be defined and understood in their time.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it? I must have seen this painting thousands of times, and yet I find I never tire of it,” a voice says from behind his right shoulder, startling Charles from his reverie. The room had been empty when he arrived, though he realizes now that he has no idea how long he’s been standing there, staring fixedly at the canvas on the wall.

“It is. I think it’s—”

He stops abruptly, his words caught in his throat when he turns and sees the man standing there – tall, lean, and incredibly attractive, though it’s the look on his face that stuns Charles to silence. Shock, wonder, and maybe hope flashes briefly across the man’s chiseled features, before he stops gaping and gives Charles a more subdued smile.

“I’m sorry for staring. It’s just that…you look remarkably like the man in the painting.”

Charles laughs. “Strange isn’t it? My sister told me I _had_ to come down and see this piece by Max Eisenhardt. Now I know why.” Then he looks back up at the portrait and asks, “Do you know anything about him?”

Stepping next to Charles, standing shoulder to shoulder, the man replies, “It was painted by the artist in his home in Poland in 1645. There’s no record of the subject’s name, though people believe that he was a scholar Eisenhardt met during the years he lived in England. They were good friends, possibly lovers…” He stops, inhaling softly before he adds, “but now I think they might have been soulmates after all.”

“You seem to know a lot about the artist and his work,” Charles says. The stranger is unfairly handsome, his voice both mesmerizing and soothing to his ears. “Are you an expert in Renaissance art?”

“Not really, no,” he answers, with a slight quirk of his brow. “Eisenhardt is my great-great-great uncle…I think. I actually can’t remember how many ‘greats’ it should be. Anyway, we’ve had this in our family for generations. Supposedly, he instructed his descendants never to sell this piece or to make it public. This is the first time it’s ever been shown.”

“Oh.” Charles can’t help but think it terribly romantic, that the artist wished to keep something so personal to him away from the rigors of academic scrutiny and debate. “May I ask why your family is choosing to show it now? After all these years?”

“Because of this.” The man points behind him, and leads Charles to the painting hanging on the opposite wall. It is the same size as the first, and – to Charles’ utter disbelief – a portrait of the stranger’s own doppelganger, staring moodily from the canvas. “This is a self-portrait by Eisenhardt, painted in the same year.”

“How is this--? He looks just like you!”

“I’ve always thought so,” the man agrees, something almost melancholy in the way he looks between the two portraits; at the way the lovers’ gaze seem locked together for eternity. Then he turns those steely blue eyes at Charles and smiles. “I thought…maybe the world deserved to see what they were forced to hide. And that maybe…”

Charles takes a step closer, his heart thumping wildly in his chest.

“That maybe I’d find him too. _My_ soulmate,” the stranger says. “I’m Erik.”

He smiles, and offers his hand to shake. “I’m Charles.”

“Charles,” Erik says, just before their fingers touch, and their whole world changes. “That’s a beautiful name.”


	4. Angels & Demons AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 4\. Angels & Demons AU: Demon Hunter Erik has a 'guardian angel' named Charles
> 
> Pairing: Cherik
> 
> Warnings: Some gore/violence

The explosion hurls him clear across the abandoned warehouse, slamming him into the brick wall before he falls and crumples to the ground. Pain sears through every part of his body, physical as well as the psychic kickback from the demon’s demise, from the scream that bursts from its gooey, bloody maw just before Erik slices off its head.

 _This is it_ , he thinks; he’s not going to make it this time, with the bones in his body shattered and blood pouring from multiple gaping wounds. Maybe this time he’s finally earned that good death he’s been seeking, and he’ll get to see Magda again, and Nina, and the parents he barely remembers…

Erik closes his eyes, and waits for the raging fire to consume him.

* * *

It’s annoying, though not surprising, that he doesn’t die.

When he wakes his body doesn’t hurt any more, though he’s still covered in layers of muck and demon guts, globs of black and green that’s utterly disgusting. Erik thinks he ought to be mad that he has to burn his fucking sheets and pillowcase – maybe even the whole bed, that’s how much it _stinks_ ; thinks about having a shower to wash it all off, and fixing himself a meal since he hasn’t eaten anything for the past twelve hours…

Thinks about anything and everything, while trying to ignore the presence perched at the end of his bed. 

“What? Not even a thank you, darling? It took quite a lot to fix you this time, what with all the giant holes in your body. That and your caved-in skull and broken back.”

Erik groans, swinging his feet off the bed and shrugging out of his dirty boots, grimacing as he peels the sticky clothes off his body. “Why should I thank you? You know I don’t want to be saved.”

“It’s not your time.”

Erik scoffs. “Shouldn’t I get a say in it?”

Sometimes, when he lets himself think about the _first_ time, picking up a beautiful stranger in a smoky bar, full of half-breeds mingling freely with humans who don’t know any better, Erik wonders—

Would he do it again? If he knew then what he knows now? Would he look into those blue eyes and let himself fall? Lower his guard and take the man home – look into that angelic face and touch that smooth, pale flesh – and fuck him senseless in his dead wife’s bed?

Charles laughs. “You would. You know you would.”

“I wouldn’t.”

He would.

He wads up the dirty clothes and throws them in the corner; he’s going to have to burn those too, because no amount of bleach gets the stench of demon off, no matter how many times you put it through the wash. His underwear is the last to make it onto the pile, though he finds his path to the bathroom suddenly blocked, as Charles appears right in front of him, and places his pristine hands against Erik’s bare chest.

He’s been chasing demons for a long time.

He should have known exactly what Charles was – _is_ – the very first time he looked at him, and stayed the hell away.

“I’m filthy,” he says, as Charles touches him, running his hands down his flank, fingers light and teasing, making his cock twitch. “You’re wearing white.”

Dressed in a white silk shirt and long pants, every part of him immaculate from his dark hair to his bare toes, Charles is a vision of purity and light; the way an angel looks to mortals like him. What a tableau they make – light versus dark, clean versus dirty, man versus immortal, good versus bad…

…though the last one is a little less clear cut than it used to be.

“Is this better?” Charles asks, and now he’s dressed all in black leather, his eyes rimmed with dark kohl. Even now he looks like an innocent playing pretend, his ethereal beauty unsullied by the change. “I can look anyway you want, Erik. _Be_ who you want me to be and _do_ whatever you want…you only need to ask.”

Erik grips him by the arms, and pulls Charles tight against his chest. “I want you to let me go.”

Still smiling, Charles tugs him over to the bed. “Anything but that, darling. A deal’s a deal, and I’ve done my part.”

It’s the eyes, Erik thinks, once Charles sinks down, impaling himself with a groan on Erik’s shaft. Unfathomably blue and irresistible they are, making Erik lose all sense of time, purpose, reason and morals….  
  
He’s been chasing demons for a long time.

He should have never gotten into bed with one, or fallen in love.


	5. Post-Apocalyptic AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 5\. Post-Apocalyptic AU: XMA AU where Apocalypse took over Charles' body. Erik vows to stop him.
> 
> Pairing: Cherik
> 
> A follow-up to ['I'm Going To Save You'](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8101678)

It’s five years later, before Erik can keep his promise.

He’s never forgotten that day in Cairo, standing alone before the great pyramid, railing against the monster wearing Charles’ face. En Sabah Nur would remake the world into a better place, he’d said, for mutants to live openly and to be free…

And he’d offered the world and a place at his side, if only Erik could forgive one minor detail; that he’d _murdered_ Charles – _his_ Charles – and stolen his body.

For that, and for the four billion lives he’s taken since that day, Erik will fight him to his last breath and make him pay.

* * *

He spends years hiding, fighting, and recruiting others to his cause, always just one step ahead of En Sabah Nur – Apocalypse now, the moniker well earned – as he decimates resistance from nations all over the world. Bombs and missiles are no match for Charles’ gift, amplified now by an age old power, though he is only too happy to encourage old fashioned war and bloodshed. Every soldier dead is a testament to his empire’s might; every civilian lost instills gut wrenching fear in those who witness the slaughter.

Many countries surrender without a single fight, having seen the Phoenix’s fire level a city, or a skyscraper crumble into sand from Apocalypse’s power. Others embrace him as a god made flesh, his ranks swelling with zealots and acolytes seeking salvation from brutal, dissatisfied lives. And amidst the carnage, he preaches about peace and love, promising forgiveness and benevolence to those who would worship and throw themselves at his feet.

 _‘The new dawn is here,’_ he says, his face – Charles’ face – broadcast from every screen large and small while his voice resonates in their heads. _‘Surrender and you will know mercy. Resist and you will die.”_

“Why doesn’t he just make everyone do what he wants?” the Wolverine asks, one night over a dying campfire in the Andes. There are only a handful of them here, in Erik’s stronghold in Peru. “Why fight us, or the humans at all? If he’s got Xavier’s power, he could turn us all into puppets, without anyone firing a single shot.”

“Because he wants people to fear him, sugah,” Rogue says, leaning just a little closer against Gambit to ward off the chill in the air. “He wants them to submit, and taking that choice away would make it meaningless; a hollow victory, you might say.”

“Or maybe he’s not as powerful as we think.”

Or maybe, Erik thinks - hopes, with every fiber of his being - that a part of Charles still exists in that madman, his goodness, and his humanity; that En Sabah Nur didn’t subsume Charles completely in the transfer, instead combining the two beings into one.

It’s the only reason Erik could have survived this long, and not been hunted and killed by his Horsemen.

And it’s the only hope he clings to, in the dark recesses of his mind…

He needs to convince Apocalypse ( _Charles_ ) to trust him again, and let him in.


	6. Hospital AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 6\. Hospital AU: Erik's going to ask the cute doctor out on a date. Too bad Charles thinks he's still married to his ex-wife
> 
> Pairing: Cherik, past Erik/Magda

It takes Erik four days to work up the courage to ask the cute doctor out on a date, and only after a lot of convincing by his ex-wife coupled with his mother’s gentle nagging. With Magda getting discharged today it’s really the last chance he’ll have to speak to Dr. Xavier, short of breaking his _own_ leg so he can get himself admitted into the man’s patient, gentle care.

Chasing away his nerves, he makes his way over to the Nurse’s Station, where the doctor is drinking his coffee and chatting amiably with the red headed Nurse Cassidy. Seeing him there with company almost stops Erik in his tracks, but then Cassidy’s eyes dart in his direction before he says something to Xavier and walks away.

“Charles?”

Looking up from his phone, Charles turns towards Erik and gives him a thousand watt smile. “Oh! Erik, hi! Are we all packed and ready to go?”

“Almost. Mama’s just helping Magda get sorted, though all the paperwork’s been signed.” _Come on, you can do this,_ he thinks, _just spit it out, Lehnsherr!_ “Do you…I mean…I just wanted to ask…”

Arching an eyebrow at him, Charles prompts, “Is something the matter, Erik? Do you have more questions about home care for Magda’s leg?”

“No, no I’ve got all the information I need thanks,” he sputters, which is just…sad really. Magda would laugh herself sick if she could see how badly he’s making a mess of things with the handsome doctor. “I just…want to thank you again, that’s all, for taking such good care of her after the accident.”

Charles smiles again, and pats him on the shoulder. “You’re very welcome. She was a wonderful patient, and I’m glad to see her on the mend.” Then, after glancing at his watch and frowning a little, he says with a sigh, “Right. I’m sorry but duty calls, Erik. It was good to meet you, my friend, and I would say ‘See you around’, if I didn’t think we’d be courting a bit of bad luck with all of _this_.”

He’s never going to hear the end of it if he lets Charles get away without even trying; not from his mother or Magda or even the twins who’ve come to adore the man that makes their Mom feel better and sneaks them lollipops from his coat pocket. “Wait! Charles wait…can I take you out for dinner some time? If you’re not too busy?”

He can’t make out the complicated expression that flashes across Charles’ face; only that he’s decidedly _not_ happy about Erik’s offer. “There’s no need to thank me by buying me dinner,” he says awkwardly, “I was just doing my job.”

 _A thank you dinner—?_ “No, no,” Erik says with a frown, “I’m asking you out on a _date_. You said you liked sushi, so I thought maybe we could do that? Sometime when you’ve got an evening free?”

And _that_ somehow makes things worse and not better, because Charles flushes red, his previous discomfort morphing quickly into anger. “You have some nerve, asking me out on a date when you’re married! And with two kids! I don’t know what kind of person you think I am Mr. Lehnsherr, but I am _not_ going to help you cheat on your wife. Goodbye!”

“Wait what? I’m not—”

“Oh man, what’d you say to the Doc?” Cassidy asks – he’s obviously been watching their interaction, with how quickly he’s back in his vacated spot – as a helpless Erik watches his crush barreling away from him down the hall. Why would Charles think that he and Magda were still married, when they’ve been divorced now for over two years? “I thought you were going to ask him out?”

Erik groans. “I did ask him out. He thinks I’m _married_.”

Cassidy laughs. “Well sure he did at first. Remember when they brought her in from the ER and you came up here yelling and demanding to see your wife? I remember, because he was definitely checking you out until the wife thing came up.” Then he cocks his head at Erik and frowns. “But you cleared it up with him didn’t you? He’s been talking about you and your kids so much I thought you two were a sure thing.”

Thinking back now, Erik can clearly see where he went wrong, and why Charles would believe that he and Magda were still together; he distinctly remembers saying ‘my wife’ loudly at the Nurse’s Station, just so they wouldn’t give him the runaround and refuse him updates on her condition. And Erik’s been staying with the twins at Magda’s since the accident and calling it ‘home’, not to mention how well he and his mother get along with his ex and how they’re always joking and ribbing each other, like they’ve been doing since they were kids…

“Fuck.” Erik’s royally botched things up this time, and with the only person he’s been attracted to – the only one he’s actually considered dating – since the divorce. “I can’t believe I--- Fuck.”

“Tell you what.” Cassidy grabs a piece of scrap paper and jots down a phone number, before grinning and shoving it in his hand. “I’ll clear things up with Charles for you. Give it 24 hours and then call him and ask him again.”

“ _Thank you_ ,” Erik says, “I owe you one.”

Cassidy claps him on the shoulder and gives him a shit eating grin. “Just make sure I get an invite to the wedding, Mr. Lehnsherr, and sit me next to one of your hot lady friends.”


	7. Childhood Friends AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 7\. Childhood Friends AU: A surprise - and famous - guest shows up at Erik's birthday party.
> 
> Pairing: Cherik

They’re just sitting down to dinner when the doorbell rings, surprising Erik as he’s about to make a giant dent in his mother’s kugel. Everyone he knows is already here – to celebrate his birthday, Edie’s orders – and he can’t imagine who else could possibly be at the door.  
  
“I’ll get it,” Ruth shouts, bolting out of the dining room like her feet are on fire, which is – not that surprising really, since she’s been buzzing with anticipation all night. Erik would worry that she had some sort of big surprise planned, if he didn’t know any better; everyone knows that he _hates_ surprises, almost as much as he hates getting presents for his birthday.

“Oh that must be Charles,” his mother says blithely, setting the last of the dishes on the dinner table with a pleased smile. “I’m so glad he could make it. I hope he still likes my brisket.”

Her comment makes zero sense to Erik, because he doesn’t even know a _‘Charles’_ ; he doesn’t socialize with anyone outside of the people from work, and even then it’s really only Azazel and Moira that he likes enough to call friends. (Alex and Sean report to him, so they’re not really _friends_ , but Mama insisted on inviting them too). And he‘s fairly certain his mother doesn’t know anyone named ‘Charles’ either, or would have had the chance to feed him her special brisket recipe.

Well, except for…

No they can’t possibly mean _Charles_ Charles, who he hasn’t seen or spoken to in over ten years.

“Erik, Erik, look who’s here!” Ruth says, eyes glittering with excitement as she rounds the corner of the dining room, dragging some poor soul behind her by the arm. “It’s Charles! Can you believe it?”

Everyone stops to gape at the newcomer, conversations coming to an abrupt halt as they collectively stare at the handsome man framed in the doorway. The handsome, famous, talented, _movie star_ Charles Xavier, who just won an Oscar for his leading role in the newest ‘Pride and Prejudice’ remake, and who also happens to be Erik’s childhood best friend. They had been inseparable as kids, and even shared their first kiss with each other, though nothing came of it beyond Erik’s lifelong crush and a broken heart he’s been nursing since their high school graduation.

“Holy shit,” Cassidy blurts out loud, dropping his fork with a _clang_ , his eyes practically bulging out of his head. “What the fuck! You’re _Charles Xavier_.”  
  
Dressed in a long sleeve button up and tan slacks, Charles is still utterly gorgeous in an effortless way, camera ready with no more work required than running his fingers through his hair. Erik remembers the sheer number of inconvenient erections he’s sported around his best friend, from Charles merely grinning at him in amusement, or looking fixedly at him with those big blue eyes.   
  
“Hello all,” Charles says, a little awkward, like he still isn’t used to the millions of people fawning all over him in real life and on the internet. “Mrs. Lehnsherr, hi. Thank you again for inviting me. I brought this with me; I hope you like it.”

His mother pulls Charles into a hug, and pets his cheek like she used to when they came home after school to raid the fridge for snacks. “None of that now, _boychik_. It’s Edie remember? Now come in and say hello to Erik.” She hands the bottle of wine Charles brought over to Ruth, and then turns to him with a slight frown. “Don’t just stand there with your mouth open, Erik. Introduce Charles to your friends.”

“Yes, Lehnsherr,” Azazel says with a smirk – because he’s an asshole, and because he knows that Erik has a private catalogue of all of Charles’ work, even his earliest, super obscure stuff from before he made it big – “introduce the nice movie star to your boring, normal friends.”

“I know right?” Moira adds, her eyes still glued to Charles like he’s Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny rolled into one. “Why didn’t you tell us you knew Charles Xavier? Oh my god, we went to see Pride and Prejudice three times in the theater and you never said a thing!”

“Actually, _why_ didn’t you get us tickets to see ‘Fires of Mordor’ on opening night, you asshole?” Alex actually throws a napkin at him, though it bounces off his chest and lands on his kugel. “You’re friends with the lead actor! Why did we have to wait three days to see it with the unwashed masses?”

Erik scowls, because his friends are ridiculous, and because he doesn’t even know if he would consider Charles a friend anymore after all these years apart. They’d been so excited after graduation, and even talked about doing stage work together in New York, until Charles got a part in a series that took him overseas to England for filming and then eventually to a busy life in L.A.

And though Charles had promised to call and to stay in touch, the distance and time zone difference became too much to juggle, and gradually, he stopped reaching out to Erik, and Erik let him go.

Some of those thoughts must have been apparent because Charles grimaces a little as he explains, “Actually, I’m afraid I haven’t been a good friend to Erik at all, for a long time now. I’m ashamed to say that I let work and life get in the way of our friendship, though I’m hoping he’ll give me a chance to make things right.”

“Of course he will,” his mother says, already pulling Charles over to take a seat next to Erik at the table. “Now let’s eat before the food gets cold.”

Erik realizes he still hasn’t said a word to Charles - because he’s still in shock, and because he’s apparently still madly in love with him, which is an inconvenient emotion to have for an ex-best friend who callously discarded your friendship for a life of wealth and fame. But Charles is still _Charles_ , and his resolve to stay mad forever crumbles like dust when he sees the mix of hope and regret painted so clearly all over his face.

“You’ve been a _terrible_ friend,” he says with a teasing grin. “I hope you’re ready to grovel, Xavier, ‘cause I’m definitely going to make you pay.”

“I’ll make it up to you, I swear,” Charles agrees readily, shoulders sagging as he huffs a relieved sigh. “You don’t know how glad I am to see you again. I’ve missed you, Erik.” 

_I’ve missed you too,_ Erik thinks, as he wraps his arms around Charles and pulls him into a fierce hug. _I’m not letting you get away again, without telling you how much._


	8. Superheroes/Superpowers AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 8\. Superheroes/Superpowers AU: Maria Hill is invited to a strategy session between the Avengers and the X-Men.
> 
> Pairing: Steve/Charles, past Cherik
> 
> Warnings: CRACK

Maria’s been to the Avengers Tower more than a dozen times, attending one of Stark’s lavish parties, or on official business as the Deputy Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. She’s seen the Avengers at their most relaxed, playing drinking games (losing badly to a demi-god) or just shooting the breeze, and she’s seen them on high alert, grim and determined as they get on with the business of saving the world.

But _this_ is something she’s never encountered before.

There are probably fifteen people inside the War Room, filling all of the seats around the conference table and spilling outwards to take up space against the walls. Camped out of one side are the folks she knows well – Steve, Natasha and Bruce, Tony and Thor, with Barton perched on the windowsill. On the other side are various members of a team she’s yet to meet in person, and has only known the existence of for no more than a few months.

The mutants that make up the X-Men, led by Professor Charles F. Xavier.

She identifies them easily based on the info in their dossiers, data that Fury dropped on her desk and had her memorize for this meeting she’s taking in his place. Darkholme and McCoy are seated close to Xavier, with McCoy engaging in a rather heated discussion with Stark. The Professor’s younger team members are here too – Summers, Grey, Munroe, Maximoff and Wagner, though they seem happy to sit back and observe, and occasionally dig into the sandwiches and snacks spread out on the conference table.

It’s all rather chaotic and loud, and Maria has no idea what she’s doing here, and what business is so important that it requires the combined efforts of the Avengers, the X-Men _and_ S.H.I.E.L.D.

“—you saying we can’t handle security on our own? You do remember who you’re talking to, don’t you McCoy? I have a dozen suits I can deploy—”

McCoy interrupts with a sigh. “They’re all _metal_ alloys, Tony—”

“—to take care of the minions,” Stark says, barreling right past McCoy’s objection. “We can have Banner ‘Hulk’ out—”

“No way. Count me out,” Banner says, waving away the incredulous expression on Tony’s face. “No Hulk. Too much potential for injury and collateral damage.”

“I quite agree.” Xavier chimes in with a bemused smile, and nods at Banner from across the room. “Tony, please consider a plan that doesn’t result in my School getting blown up or demolished.”

Stark pops a blueberry in his mouth and glares, first at Banner and then at Xavier, who looks entirely serene and unfazed by Tony’s obvious annoyance. “Fine then. Thor can take him out.”

The God of Thunder looks up from his meatball sub and shakes his head. “I cannot. I must concentrate on the duties I’ve been asked to perform.”

Throwing his hands in defeat, Stark drops into a chair and rubs his face with a tired sigh. “ _Fine._ Natasha can take him out. Or Barton. Yes, Barton can shoot him with plastic bullets.”

This time, Xavier’s words are tinged with disapproval, as he leans forward in his chair and points a finger at Stark. “No plastic bullets, Tony. I don’t want him injured.”

By this point in the conversation, Maria has figured out the ‘he’ being referred to by Stark and the others; Magneto, Master of Magnetism and the Professor’s former associate and friend. What she doesn’t know is _why_ they’re trying to come up with a plan to stop him (beyond the fact that he’s a terrorist, and wanted by the government) and what S.H.I.E.L.D. can possibly do to support the mission, when both the Avengers and the X-Men are working to contain the threat.

“You’re here to mitigate the chance of civilian injuries, Ms. Hill,” Xavier answers blithely, plucking the unspoken thought from her head. “I’m afraid Erik has the tendency to act first and think later.”

“And he likes to drop buildings on people’s heads,” McCoy mutters, entirely immune to the Professor’s chastising glare. 

“Okay, so no metal, no plastic, no Hulk, no Thor.” Stark is looking more and more exasperated, even as Xavier smiles warmly at him and pats him on the arm. “You’re killing me here, Charles. I don’t know how you expect us to protect you from getting kidnapped.”

“Actually I have a suggestion.”

All eyes turn to the Captain, who until now has been sitting quietly next to the Professor, not saying a word. He gets out of his chair and drops to his knee, and – _oh my god what’s happening I didn’t get a memo about this_ – presses a sweet kiss to the Professor’s hand.

“Why don’t we skip the big ceremony and get hitched in Vegas?” he says, and Maria might be swooning just a little, at the way Steve smiles adoringly up at the Professor, still clutching his hand. “No fuss, no security, no jealous ex-boyfriends. What do you say, Charles?”

Xavier is silent for a few moments before he replies, “I say ‘fuel up the jets’.” Smile tinged with mischief, he pulls the Captain close and gives him a – regrettably G-rated – kiss on the lips. “And I was thinking; how would you feel about Elvis performing the ceremony?”


	9. Royalty AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 9\. Royalty AU: Charles runs from Genosha, and the possibility of happiness with the Crown Prince.
> 
> Pairing: Cherik

There’s something almost soothing about airports at night, the lounge mostly quiet and empty, with only a few passengers waiting to board the last of the day’s scheduled flights. Charles takes a seat by the window and sets his carryon on the floor, pulling his cell out of his jacket pocket to check the departure time – yes still ten thirty to London, no expected delay. He can’t believe he’s made it this far, without breaking down or changing his mind; only another twenty minutes before he’s in the air and on his way home, and far away from the madness he’s been living since his arrival in Genosha.

He checks his cell as soon as it beeps, reading, and then immediately deleting the text with a frown.

_Do not get on that plane._

He can see it so clearly; Erik returning to his rooms after the banquet, expecting to see Charles already asleep, or perhaps reading a book in his bed. How frantic he would be, once he realized that Charles and his things had both disappeared, shouting at Kitty and the guards for answers to where he might be. His face when he reads Charles’ note, left on the bed; a raw and fleeting moment of anger and heartbreak, before he schools his expression and starts barking orders to the staff, and making his way to the airport.

He knows that Erik won’t make it in time to stop him, no matter how fast he moves or how many speed limits he breaks on the way…

Charles doesn’t want to be stopped; doesn’t want Erik’s goodness and loyalty and his bloody _convictions_ to sway Charles from doing the right thing. They had both been so naïve, believing their love would be enough, and that getting the blessing of Erik’s family would be the biggest hurdle they would have to face. But the Lehnsherrs had welcomed Charles with open arms, pleased that their son finally found someone special enough to bring to the palace, the warmth of their approval enough to make Charles _believe_ in a way he hasn’t since he lost his father at the age of twelve.

 _It was all just a fairy tale,_ he thinks, his inner voice mocking and full of disdain, _you should have known that things wouldn’t work out. Did you really think that you deserved to be happy? That you deserved a life with someone like Erik?_

 _I’m sorry Charles,”_ Moira said to him, three days ago after a museum opening in Hammer Bay. _“I like you. And I know the Crown Prince loves you and you both deserve to be happy. But this isn’t going to get any better for you, because the scrutiny will never end. The media will dig up every last speck of dirt they can find on you and what they can’t find they’ll make up. And with what they’ve already found..”_

 _“They’ll never stop searching, will they?”_ he’d answered. _“Because I’m not good enough; will never be good enough for their beloved Prince. And they’ll never ever let me forget that I’ve ruined Erik’s life; that a man like_ me _doesn’t deserve a man like_ him _.”_

 _“Are you sure about this?”_ Raven had asked, three months ago, when he’d told his sister he was moving with Erik to Genosha. _“I know how much you love him, Charles, and that he makes you happy. But dating a prince,_ marrying _a prince…your life will never really be yours again.”_

He’s never been ashamed of the things that happened to him or the life he’s lived, choosing instead to bear his scars proudly and without regret. But it’s one thing to share your secrets with a partner and another to tell the whole world; to have your pain, and your mistakes ( _your shame_ ) splashed all over the web and across the front page of every newspaper and magazine—

Abuse by his stepfather and stepbrother until he left home at sixteen.

A mother dead from too much drink.

The freedom of his twenties, when he wore his promiscuity like a badge of honor.

The tape of him, leaked by a vindictive ex eager to make money off his newfound fame.

He knows deep down that he’s not just leaving for Erik’s sake, so that Charles’ scandals don’t inadvertently bring down the Genoshan monarchy (because Erik would fight for him, and _never stop_ fighting for him, no matter what, even to his own detriment); he’s doing this for _himself_ too, and the life he wants to live. He won’t be bullied or embarrassed for being exactly who he is, and not some made up perfect Consort that doesn’t – and could never - exist. Yes, he’d rather let Erik go, and live forever with a miserable, broken heart than turn his hard won confidence into a source of unending shame.

He checks his messages again, deleting them once he’s finished.

_Please don’t go._

_Charles, you can’t just leave!_

_I love you. I’ll fix this I promise._

_Don’t leave me._

The announcement comes over the speaker, just as he finishes the last of the texts.

_‘Flight 1130 to London boarding now at Gate 3.’_

Charles switches his cell off and grabs his carryon bag, and heads over to the line to board his plane.


	10. Pirates AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 10\. Pirates AU: Ex-Pirate Captain Erik discovers something surprising about his new husband.
> 
> Pairing: Cherik

The past fifteen years have taught Erik more than a few life lessons, useful tips and tricks he garnered on the open sea, slowing rising through the ranks from lowly deckhand to Captain of the dreaded pirate vessel _Genosha_. His sharp instincts have saved him more times than he can count – in skirmishes against the Crown, as well as other pirates and lowlife scum – and helped cement his fortune while building a reputation as a man both ruthless and unafraid. And he’s never once been proven wrong with his keen judge of character, not with those he calls friends (a few) or those he calls enemies (the many).

Even _now_ , he can’t truly fathom how he could have been so utterly duped; so thoroughly outwitted and out maneuvered by a boy ten years his junior…

Erik is certain his old crew would laugh themselves sick, if they knew the predicament he’s currently in, entirely of his own making.

In hindsight, the clues about young Lord Xavier have always been there, clear as an ‘X’ on a treasure map if Erik had simply taken a closer look, and not let that pretty face distract him, or let his libido do his thinking.

With a King’s pardon and a trunk full of pirate gold, Erik had moved to bustling London six months ago, ready to enjoy the fruits of his labor. As it was not in his nature to sit idle in his new townhome, Erik sought a good marriage prospect from the various noble houses – someone with an impeccable reputation and the right last name. He found it in young Charles Francis Xavier, son of the late Lord Brian Xavier, and a distant relative to the King. 

Charles was everything that Erik could have asked for; pretty, frivolous but mannered and charming, and able to open doors to polite society that would otherwise have remained firmly shut. And he was eager to accept Erik’s offer of marriage, keen to get away from an insufferable family it seemed, and quite happy to stay out of his new husband’s affairs.

His first clue should have been the most obvious, as the Charles he met at Graymalkin – quiet, meek and firmly under his stepfather’s control – was a mere shadow of the man he actually married; intelligent, witty and full of life. He had numerous friends that visited frequently, an eclectic mix of scholars and tradesmen, nobles and soldiers, and spent many hours in the salon debating the merits of science and trading gossip for sport.

He knew everyone, and everyone knew _Charles_ , and Erik - through his young husband – found himself duly welcomed into many wealthy and important homes.

His second clue was rather closely tied to the first, for he discovered on their wedding night, that the shy, inexperienced young Lord he expected was in fact, a carefully constructed façade. As soon as Erik led him into their bedroom and closed the door, Charles had promptly dropped to his knees and untied his breeches, and swallowed his entire length down his throat with an impish grin. And he spent the rest of their wedding night in much the same way, proving - _very_ skillfully - that he wasn’t a virgin, and could very well do the despoiling. 

The third clue, Erik concedes, is a little more obscure, and only made obvious after suffering through Constable Summers’ interrogation. A rash of burglaries throughout London’s most prominent homes, and various expensive heirlooms purloined, all within a day or two after a visit from Mr. Lehnsherr and Lord Xavier. It must be the work of a notorious pirate, the man had accused, for who else had means, motive and ability to commit such daring and outrageous thievery?

Charles, apparently greatly offended on his behalf, railed passionately at the Constable for the accusations, insisting that Erik was innocent of such crimes, for he could vouch for his husband’s whereabouts during the times the acts had been committed (he lied). And because Charles was beloved and his reputation beyond reproach, Summers could only leave empty handed, with no leads and no better knowledge of who exactly was the culprit in question…

Erik himself would have no idea, if he hadn’t accidentally stumbled on the object of the latest and most valuable theft yet, stuffed in _his husband’s desk drawer_ ; a gem from the African continent, taken from General Stryker’s manor not two evenings before.

He finds that he’s rather angry with Charles, for using Erik’s own reputation as a decoy, to deflect attention from himself onto a more obvious suspect…

And he finds that he’s rather annoyed with himself, for being more impressed than angry with his daring young husband, and for falling even more hopelessly and inconveniently in love.


	11. Farm/Ranch AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 11\. Farm/Ranch AU: Charles and Raven vacation at a luxury dude ranch.
> 
> Pairing: Cherik, Xavierine, Cherigan?

It’s an hour’s drive from Telluride to their designated home for the week, a luxury ranch slash resort nestled in a picturesque valley in the San Juan mountains. Charles is still in shock that this is the place they’ll be spending their vacation this year, given Raven’s (and Charles’) tastes and their penchant for more cosmopolitan locales or beach-y destinations. But Raven had insisted that a change in scenery was long overdue, and so Charles caved dutifully to her sisterly demands, and set her loose to do all the necessary planning.

Now, as he’s pulling up in front of a few scattered log cabins (and tents!) surrounded by a sea of green, Charles thinks he should have fought _much_ harder for that villa in Capri.

“Isn’t this view magnificent?” Raven says, throwing the passenger door open and taking an exaggerated breath of fresh mountain air. He concedes that the scenery is quite beautiful, in that ‘rugged old west’ kind of way, though he’s not ready to pat her on the back yet until he gets an actual look at the lodgings and the amenities.

So far…he’s not all that impressed.

“You know this place used to be an old mining town? Some of these cabins are originals from the _1880s_ —”  
  
“Oh my god, Raven, please tell me there’s indoor plumbing here? If you tell me I have to do my business in an outhouse I’m turning this car around and taking the next flight home.”

Raven laughs, shoving him good naturedly as they grab their bags out of the trunk of their rental SUV. “You are _such_ a snob, Charles.”

Charles snickers. “You’re one to talk.”

“ _Anyway_ , this place has been renovated and updated from top to bottom with five star amenities. En-suite bathrooms, Wi-Fi, gourmet meals _and_ our cabin has a private soaking pool with a view of the mountains! I think I know you well enough to know your minimum threshold for ‘roughing it’ in the woods.”

Charles shrugs, smiling as he follows Raven up the path and towards the main lodge for check-in.

“Nothing wrong with having standards, darling.”

* * *

Charles’ opinion of the place goes up a bit once they get to their cabin, which is a one bedroom + loft that used to be the town’s General Store. It’s quaint, and more than a little kitschy, complete with old John Wayne movie posters on the wall. The décor is a little (a lot) more rustic than he’s used to, but he’s willing to give it a go solely on the presence of running water and a bathtub, and being steps to the ‘Saloon’ where the bar and restaurant are located.

His opinion goes up even more with the quality of the food available, when he and Raven sit down for dinner that evening, to a splendid meal of smoked pork tacos, lamb loin and huckleberry turnovers with whipped cream. It goes a long way to appease the part of Charles that preferred a less isolated vacation spot, or at least somewhere with a lot more people to flirt with and share a drink. Most of the other lodgers here are couples or families with kids, which is a little disappointing, especially compared to last year’s trip to Rio…

All of that changes once Raven heads off to turn in, leaving Charles to nurse a whiskey at the bar, the ambient chatter of the other guests lulling him into a state of relaxation. Though the peace only lasts for maybe twenty minutes, before the door to the Saloon swings open, and two very handsome, _very_ fit specimens in plaid shirts and tight jeans saunter in. One has hair that’s a bit wild and muscles practically straining his sleeves, while the other looks equally dangerous and sexy, with sharp eyes and an almost feral smile.

The bartender Kitty – a lovely young lady Charles has been chatting with about the activities available at the resort – looks up and snorts, just as the two men turn in their direction, their gazes landing squarely on Charles.

“Well that’s gonna be trouble,” she says, smirking at Charles’ gobsmacked expression (because _oh my god so_ _hot_ ) and the very intent looks he’s suddenly getting from the objects of his overwhelming lust. “Look at those two competitive idiots over there, ogling you like you’re a juicy piece of steak.”

Charles swallows, trying very hard not to drool at the very finely toned chests and biceps he can see even from clear across the room. “Do they work here too?”

“Sure. Logan and Erik. They take the guests out on excursions; horseback riding, hikes through the mountains, rock climbing, rafting. Whatever’s on the day’s schedule. I think they’re taking the horses out again tomorrow.”

Suddenly, Raven’s packed itinerary for the week looks a hell of a lot more _appealing,_ with Charles intending on making the most of the _incredible views_ and the _very fine amenities._

“I think I should probably turn in,” he says with a grin, downing the last of his drink and licking his lips just a little, just to see if he gets any kind of reaction (he does). “I’ve got to get up early and sign up for a ride or two.”


	12. Crime AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 12\. Crime AU: Detective Erik is working a case on an elusive serial killer.
> 
> Pairing: Cherik

There’s a beer already waiting for Erik when he arrives at _MacTaggert’s_ , and takes his usual spot in front of Moira at the bar. It’s been a long day – a long week in fact, in an already long month – and Erik doesn’t even hesitate before he picks up the tall glass and drains half of it with a grimace.

He sets the glass down, and wipes his lips with the back of his hand. “Thanks. I needed that.”

“I could tell as soon as I saw you come in,” Moira says, setting a pitcher down on a tray with two glasses and waving one of the servers over for pickup. “Let me guess. No new progress on the case, and Shaw is breathing down your neck for results?”

“Right on both counts.” He takes another long drink, and pushes the nearly empty glass back over to Moira for a refill. “There’s pressure on the department coming from the Mayor’s office; apparently it’s bad PR when you have a serial killer on the loose two months before re-election.”

Moira rolls her eyes, and slides Erik his refill with a snort. “What? You don’t think Trask wants justice for those poor murder victims? Why, Detective Lehnsherr I do believe you’re being too hard on our illustrious Mayor.”

“I don’t care what that idiot thinks,” Erik says, setting the glass down hard enough to warrant Moira’s warning glare. With a sigh he adds, “They’re thinking of adding a consultant to my team. A behavioural psychologist. An empath. I fucking hate empaths.”

“Well that’s going to be an utter shit show.” She’s grinning fondly at him, which takes the sting a little from her pointed – and highly accurate – observation. “Who’s idea was it to do _that_? Shaw knows you don’t play well with others.”

“Doesn’t matter. What matters is I’ve got three dead bodies and nothing concrete after a month’s investigation. If Forensics doesn’t give me something useful soon I’m going to lose my damn mind.”

“Oh it’s way too late for that,” she says, and her dry delivery makes him shake his head and laugh. Then she leans a little closer, and nudges him discreetly towards the opposite end of the bar. “Just so you know that cute guy nursing the single malt has been checking you out since you got here. Time to put the shop talk away and work your magic.”

Erik grimaces. “I didn’t come here to pick anyone up, Moira.”

“By the looks of it, he’s probably going to pick _you_ up, so do yourself a favor and let him buy you a drink, and forget about work for the rest of the night, okay?”

She leaves him then with a quick pat on the cheek, and heads over to help the other bartender with his orders. Curious, he sneaks a look where the cute guy is sitting, and finds himself locking eyes with a man staring very intently in his direction.

He feels lightheaded, like all the air has been sucked out of his lungs, as the man picks up his drink and makes his way towards Erik. There is something incredibly arresting about him – early thirties, wearing a blue dress shirt and khakis – and he doesn’t understand why until the man is standing right in front of him, and giving him a friendly, flirtatious smile.

His build, his dark hair, blue eyes and impossibly red lips…

He’s a dead ringer for every one of the victims murdered by Erik’s killer.

“Hi, I’m Charles,” the man says, and something wild and possessive lodges itself deep in Erik’s gut. It can’t be a coincidence, can it? This man meeting Erik here, matching the victims’ physical profile so closely it makes every hair on his body stand on end?

“Erik,” he answers, his eyes darting around the room to see if anyone is watching. He can’t shake the feeling that this might be a setup; that the killer might be in the room and planning this man’s murder while simultaneously messing with Erik’s mind. He’s got to get Charles out of here, and someplace safe where Erik can keep a close eye on him. “Can I get you like another drink?”

Charles smiles. “I’d love another drink.”

* * *

They end up going to Erik’s place, where Charles promptly makes him forget why it’s a bad idea to get involved with a potential target.

* * *

He wakes in the middle of the night, his head pillowed in Charles’ lap and looking up at the killer’s handsome (familiar) face.

“Hello darling,” Charles says, carding his fingers through Erik’s sweat soaked hair. He can’t move his limbs, or open his mouth to scream, as the memories – _blue eyes, blood_ , _the way Charles made him scream as he_ \- come flooding back like a deluge. “Oh how I’ve missed you.”

* * *

He wakes up with a pounding headache, and spends most of the morning cursing Moira for letting him drink too much, knowing that he’s got an early meeting with Shaw at the precinct. A shower and some aspirin gets him up and alert enough to get dressed, though he spends most of the ride in feeling exhausted and unsettled. Once they solve this case he’s going to take that long holiday he’s been planning, someplace warm and far away…

He needs to relax or the stress is definitely going to kill him.

Shaw is waving him into his office the minute Erik walks through the door, and nodding at him to take a seat next to someone he’s never met before.

“Lehnsherr, this is Dr. Charles Xavier. He’s been assigned to help with your case—”  
  
Erik growls, “I told you I don’t need help from a shrink!”

He snaps his mouth shut, when Shaw sends him a warning glare promising painful retribution if he doesn’t fall into line. “Not my call. And not yours either. Take the good doctor to meet the team and get him up to speed on the case. You got it?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. Now get the fuck out of my office.”

He does exactly that, with Xavier following promptly at his heels.

“Look, I don’t know who you are or what’re you’re doing here—” he snarls, though he stops abruptly when he whirls around and finally sees the man’s face. It’s…familiar somehow, though Erik can’t imagine why, that is until he realizes that Xavier shares some physical similarities with the victims in his case.

“Detective Lehnsherr, I’m not here to get in your way,” Xavier says, which mollifies Erik’s temper somewhat, even if he’s still annoyed at being unceremoniously saddled with a ‘consultant’ he doesn’t need. “This is your case, and I’m happy to take your lead.”

“Right.” He takes Xavier’s offered hand and shakes it, and resigns himself to another long and unproductive day. “Let’s go meet the others, and I’ll brief you on the details.”


	13. Rock Band AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 13\. Rock Band AU: Hank helps Charles build a new band after Erik and Raven's departure.
> 
> Pairing: Xavierine, past Cherik, Erik/Raven mentioned
> 
> Warning: Mention of Infidelity

Three months and Hank is finally at his limit, ready to pack up his things and head back to his own place in New York. It’s not like he doesn’t understand what Charles is going through – he _does,_ better than anyone _._ Erik and Raven didn’t just leave _him_ after all _;_ they left Hank too.

Unlike those two however, Hank knows what it means to be _loyal_ , and that every bit of success he’s ever had as a musician he owes to one Charles Xavier.

In the first weeks right after the split, Hank had been lonely and miserable, and was perfectly happy when he and Charles left to hole up in Westchester, drinking their sorrows away in Charles’ dusty old family mansion. But as the days and weeks and then months went by, it became increasingly clear that Charles wasn’t getting any better, taking to numbing himself with drugs and alcohol, and turning into a shell of his formerly vibrant, optimistic, and highly _productive_ self. He stopped writing new music, or picking up the guitar to play whatever bits of inspiration floated into his head, choosing self-torture instead by blasting the band’s old music over and over again.

It’s become their own personal Hell, and Hank isn’t going to let his best friend drown in his misery or let his music career die over a fucking breakup, no matter how brutal it is to have your lover cheat on you with your own sister.

(That Raven cheated on him too, Hank actually finds _less_ galling, since he never expected her to be faithful in the first place.)

The first call he makes is to Alex and Sean, who like Hank, are Charles’ old students, and owe their start in the music industry to his encouragement and his extensive contacts. The two are largely recording soundtracks now, and making a hell of a good living, though he knows Sean is itching to get back to doing more vocal work, and Alex misses the high of a live performance.

Their arrival jolts their mentor out of his haze, enough at least to take a shower without being prompted, and even taking a meal together, all of them slumped over the couches with their Chinese take-out containers…

Just like the good old days. 

He makes a second call to Logan Howlett, who’s been on his own even longer, ever since he split with his own crew over the direction their music was headed. Howlett’s a rude fucking bastard on the best of days, but he also happens to be a damn good bass player, and just what they need to fill the gap Erik left in their instrumental mix.

Also, Logan is fucking _gorgeous_ , and exactly Charles’ type, and getting epically laid might be just the thing to drag his friend kicking and screaming out of his pity party for one. 

Hank’s plan ends up working even better than he could have hoped for, because while they do fall into bed together, they also cultivate a deep friendship that goes a long way to mending Charles’ broken heart. It’s not the same passion and intensity that he had with Erik – which in hindsight, could only ever have ended the way it did – but Hank knows a good thing when he sees it, and doesn’t mind taking a little credit for his part in making it happen.

He doesn’t return Raven’s call, the one time she tries to contact him for news about Charles.

Slowly, over the course of the next three months, Charles re-discovers his inspiration, using music to exorcise the demons still plaguing him over Erik and Raven’s departure. He spends hours with Logan, riffing on the guitar, and more hours still with Sean, writing lyrics blistering and raw. But there are songs too about second chances and moving on, and the result is an album that blows Hank’s mind, a distillation of everything that _is_ Charles Xavier into the best damn music they’ve ever made together.

Their album _Rage & Serenity _climbs the charts to number one overnight, and Charles is the happiest Hank’s seen him for over a year.

(And Hank flushes the bottle of Dom that Erik sends to the ‘X-Men’, congratulating them on their release and for bumping the ‘Brotherhood’s’ own album out of the top ten).

“Thank you for everything, Hank,” Charles says on Grammy night, as they’re waiting to hear the winner for Album of the Year. “You’ve been an absolute rock through all of this past year…I don’t know what I would have done without you, my friend.”

“You never have to find out,” he says, squeezing Charles’ hand. “You’re my brother, and I love you. And no matter what happens tonight…you deserve this.”

“We all do,” Charles says, smiling as the presenter tears open the envelope, and reads the winner’s name.


	14. Vampire AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 14\. Vampire AU: Vampire Erik must damn his human lover to save him.
> 
> Pairing: Cherik
> 
> Warning: Blood

Erik is no stranger to violence and bloodshed, having lived a preternaturally long life, moving from coast to coast and city to city for the past four centuries. He’s killed humans and vampires by the hundreds, staining his hands with a river of blood, and felt nothing more than annoyance for those too ignorant and foolish to stand in this way.

Now, as he enters the chapel just after midnight, following the clues left by his Maker, Erik feels a fear he’s never once felt in all those long years; a mounting dread that only gets worse with every wary step he takes.

He finds his quarry waiting for him, standing next to a familiar body placed carefully across the altar.

“You… _Charles_ …how could you--”

Bathed by a dozen candelabras, his human lover lies perfectly still, his pale skin glowing in the flickering candlelight. Eyes closed with this hands crossed over his chest, Charles could be mistaken for a statue carved from white marble, an effigy of an angel, or some random Christian saint. He might even be sleeping, if not for the two holes in his neck – not delicate puncture holes, but vicious, deep rends tearing into flesh - and the blood that’s drenched his waistcoat and the linens dark red, rivulets running down the sides of the altar to pool at Shaw’s feet.

“He’s not dead, Erik, at least not yet,” Shaw says, those cool, calculating eyes tracking Erik as he makes his approach to the front of the church. “But he _will_ die, and soon, if you don’t give him your blood.”

Of course this had been Shaw’s plan all along, to force Erik to go back on his vow, to make him choose between his promise to Charles or watch him die. A death where’s he been bled dry like a pig at slaughter, taken from his family by a hateful and remorseless monster.

“I’ll kill you first,” he replies, “tear you limb from limb for what you’ve done to this innocent man.”

Shaw barks an ugly and derisive laugh, the sound bouncing loudly between the cold and empty walls. “There are no innocents in this world, dear Erik, human or vampire. And your Charles gave up any claim to goodness when he took up with you – a man _and_ a monster.”

“You’re wrong.” Erik can’t take his eyes off his beloved Charles, tracking the pallor of his skin and blue tinged lips, knowing that Death is minutes away from staking its claim. “He’s the best man I’ve ever had the privilege to know. He didn’t deserve this Shaw, whatever our quarrel. You will pay for your treachery, even if it means I have to die in the process.”

He takes a step towards Shaw, only for the bastard to grin and float back from the altar, keeping Erik an arm’s length away. “If you try to kill me now, you will die, and Charles along with you,” he taunts, licking a stray drop of blood from the end of his fingertip. “I took care to drain him very well, my boy…I can smell the death on him already, as we stand and banter over his pretty corpse.”

_“I don’t want to be a vampire, Erik,” Charles says, as they lay together in his bed, his scent and the warmth of the fire soothing even to his undead senses. “I don’t want to be immortal and watch my family die as I remain young forever. Let us love each other now, as we are, and be happy.”_

_“Could I ever be happy again without you, Charles? If I lost you…I would spend eternity mourning our fate.”_

_Shifting languidly in Erik’s arms, Charles merely smiles and kisses him playfully on the cheek. “You’d forget me soon enough.”_

_“Never,” Erik swears. “You’re my everything.”_

“I’m sorry,” he says, tears running down his cheek. He lifts Charles gently up and into his arms, cradling his head as he bites down on his own wrist, watching the blood bead upon his skin. Erik can’t let him die, not like this, and maybe not _ever_ …

Not even if he has to break his promise to Charles, and doom his lover to an eternity of blood and darkness.

He sucks the blood from his wrist, and feeds it to Charles with an open mouthed kiss.

* * *

When he comes to, Shaw is gone from the room, leaving only Erik and Charles locked together in a tight embrace. It takes long moments, before Charles’ eyes come into focus, as though he’s slowly waking from a dreamless sleep.

“Oh Erik,” Charles whispers, his eyes going wide with horror as he stares at the dark stains on his chest. He wipes an absent finger over his blood red lips, before running the tip of his tongue over his new, pointed fangs. “Oh my darling, what have you done?”


	15. Modern AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 15\. Modern AU: Charles bumps into his ex while on a very bad date.
> 
> Pairing: Cherik

By the time the appetizers arrive Charles is ready to throw in the towel, and concede that this is in fact, _the_ worst first date he’s ever been on in his entire life.

Strike 1 – His date is handsome, well-bred, fabulously wealthy, and supposedly in the line of succession for the tiny Eastern European nation of Latvia. He’s also arrogant, self-important, and loves hearing himself talk, and Charles swears he’s going to _murder_ Reed Richards, who told Charles he knew ‘the perfect person to set you up with to get over your ex’, and that was _after_ talking him into taking Genetics 101 for the fall term.

_Murder._

Strike 2 – They’re at his favorite restaurant, or the one that used to be his and Erik’s favorite place to go, a charming little Italian trattoria with the best panna cotta in all of Manhattan. Victor had taken one look at the homey, down-to-earth décor and snorted, and offered to get them reservations elsewhere, guaranteed to have _much_ better food and service.

Charles had to refrain from braining the man with his menu.

Worse is the fact that not ten minutes after they’re seated, Charles spies _Erik_ arriving with Moira for dinner, with the owner greeting them warmly and placing them at a table much too close for comfort. He manages a half smile, half grimace when Erik and Moira wave at him, though thankfully (or rather not, since it might actually _improve_ the evening to have his ex and his best friend interrupt his blind date) they choose not to make their way over for an awkward introduction.

He thinks it’s entirely unfair that he’d much rather be over at their table, drinking wine and laughing about Erik’s minions or Moira’s cases, than being stuck here listening to Dr. Boring go on and on and _on_ about his giant castle and his super-duper secret important research…

Strike 3 comes just after the main course, when the nervous young man at the next table pops the question to his unsuspecting companion. Between the lovely (if overly saccharine) vows of adoration, the enthusiastic applause by the other diners and some rather overt eye rolling by his own snobby date, Charles is ready to skip dessert and call it a night – preferably with a pint of Ben & Jerry’s ‘Chip Happens’ in front of the TV.

Of course his plan is completely upended when one half of the newly engaged starts choking a few minutes later, having inhaled a piece of steak much too quickly in his excited state. Frantic, Charles grabs Victor and tugs him out of his chair, and shoves him at the young man and his panicky fiancé. “Quick, you have to help him.”

Startled, Victor looks at him and blurts, “What? I don’t know how to help!”

By now the dining room is in chaos, with the waiter running to the kitchen to find Massimo the owner and hopefully, someone who can do the Heimlich. “What do you mean you don’t know how?” Charles snaps, “you’re a doctor!”

“I’m not…actually a doctor?” Victor admits, looking a little sheepish for the first time all evening. “I mean, not a medical doctor anyway."

Charles hisses, "Then why did you make me call you 'Dr. Victor' all night?"

"Well, I did get an honorary degree from—”

“Oh do shut up,” Charles growls, shoving him out of the way. In the same instant, Erik appears at his side like a guardian angel, and performs the Heimlich on the poor boy to the relief of the entire restaurant.

“Oh my god, thank you so much,” the fiancé cries, as Charles and Erik help the two of them pack up their things. It’s important to get checked out by a doctor, he ends up telling them, to ensure there are no lasting effects from the choking, and they are too shocked and relieved to do much more than let themselves get gently herded out the door and into a cab.

When he steps back inside the restaurant, Erik at his heels, he finds the owner waiting for them, pulling first Charles and then Erik into a hug.

Massimo shakes his head and shudders. “Those poor boys. Thank goodness for you two. I hate to think what would have happened if you hadn’t been here.”

Charles laughs. “Much as I would love to take credit, it was all Erik’s doing. He’s the hero of the evening.”

“Yes, yes,” Massimo agrees, “but he wouldn’t have been over there so fast if he hadn’t been watching your table all night, am I right?”

Charles can’t believe it, but Erik actually flushes a delightful pink at Massimo’s teasing, and pretends to scowl at the elderly man when they both start to chuckle. “I wasn’t watching the table! I was just…wondering what kind of man wears a _cape_ to dinner.” 

He can’t even be mad at Erik’s little jab, because Charles had thought the _exact same thing_.

“Oh hey Charles, sorry to interrupt.” It’s their favorite waiter Sean, who had been shooting dirty looks at Victor all night, much to Charles’ amusement. “Your date paid the bill and left. He said to tell you he’s sorry he had to leave but there was an emergency and blah blah blah he’ll call you. God, what an absolute prick.”

“Now Sean—” Massimo says warningly, though he can’t quite keep the delighted grin off his face.

“No, no Sean’s right.” He can’t even be mortified that Erik is _right here_ , getting a front row seat to the utter shit show of a date he’s had all evening; he’s _that_ relieved it’s over. “That was a huge, terrible, catastrophic mistake I won’t be repeating again. I just want to go home and pretend this entire night never happened.”

“Or you could join us for dessert?”

Charles turns to find Erik looking at him rather intently, maybe almost…hopeful as he waits for an answer.

“I don’t want to interrupt your dinner.”

This time Erik rolls his eyes at him and snorts. “Moira and I are just catching up on work and Tony’s latest disaster.” Then his expression softens and he adds, “It’s been a while since we’ve seen each other and had a chance to talk. I’d like to know how you’ve been doing. Please.”

“I—”

“I’ll bring another place setting over.” Sean interrupts with a grin.

“And I’ll bring you your favorite! Panna cotta for two, and a tiramisu for Ms. MacTaggert, yes?” Massimo says, entirely unashamed with his blatant meddling.

Charles laughs; he can’t say no to what is admittedly a lovely offer, and a chance to turn the disastrous evening around to something much more enjoyable – certainly not when all three faces are looking at him with such hope and expectation. 

“Dessert sounds great,” he says, and lets Massimo herd them towards Erik’s table.


	16. Treasure Hunters AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 16\. Treasure Hunters AU: Charles and Erik on a treasure hunt.
> 
> Pairing: Gen (kid fic)

“Alright everyone! It’s time for the treasure hunt!”

All the kids stop and cheer at the announcement, running to gather around Moira, who’s standing in the middle of the yard and grinning ear to ear. She’d told Erik all about it earlier that week; that since it’s _her_ birthday, she gets to help her Mom organize all the activities for the party.

Erik thinks she just likes to order her friends around, and this party gives her the perfect excuse to be extra bossy.

At his side, Charles giggles, and nudges Erik playfully with his elbow. “Moira’s not bossy, Erik. She’s just really good at organizing things. That’s why Mr. Wagner made her stage manager for our class play.”

Erik frowns. He doesn’t know why, but Charles is always defending Moira, and telling Erik he’s being mean when all he’s doing is telling the truth as he sees it. That’s what his Mama taught him after all; to not tell lies or pretend to agree with something when you clearly don’t.

Maybe, he thinks, with a slow dawning horror…maybe Charles _likes_ likes Moira, the same way Scott is always following Jean around like a puppy and trying to hold her hand.

Eww.

“You’re always on _her_ side,” he ends up blurting out loud. Erik doesn’t know why he’s so mad, but he can’t seem to help himself when it comes to Charles who’s always smiling at everyone and being extra helpful and friendly to people who don’t deserve it. “You’re _my_ best friend not hers!”

Charles laughs. “I know that! Erik, you’re being really silly. Let’s just go get our map so we go look for the treasure!”

All the other kids are lining up now to grab their maps from Moira, and then breaking off into teams of two or three to work together on the clues to the treasure’s location. He does really want to win so he can share the prize with Charles (and maybe Ruth and Raven too if they’re not being super annoying and loud).

But then Moira hollers across the backyard and suddenly everyone is watching when she says, “Hey, what’s taking you guys so long? Don’t you want a map so you can start the treasure hunt?”

“Sorry,” Charles yells back, grabbing Erik by the arm and dragging him over. “Erik’s being weird. Can we get a map to share please?”

“No!” He can’t believe that Charles of all people would call him names, when he knows how often Erik’s been called ‘weird’ for having different traditions and beliefs than most of the other kids at his school. “I want my own map. You can partner with Moira on the treasure hunt if you think I’m weird.”

Now it’s Charles’ turn to frown at him, his forehead crinkling at little when he hears _‘stay out of my head’_ when he tries to read Erik’s mind. Biting his lip, he turns his back on Erik to grab a map from Moira’s outstretched hand. “Fine. Let’s go Moira. I guess Erik wants to do this all on his own.”

Erik doesn’t think he’s ever felt worse than watching Charles walk off without him, and spends the rest of the treasure hunt sitting alone under the big oak tree.

* * *

Thirty long minutes later, the treasure hunt is over, with Emma and Sebastian declared winners after finding the old chest in Moira’s attic, loaded with chocolates and candies. It makes Erik feel even worse, because he _hates_ Sebastian Shaw, and he knows that he and Charles would have found the treasure faster if Erik hadn’t gone and lost his temper.

He should probably go and find Charles and apologize…

He hopes Charles forgives him instead of ditching him for a new best friend.

“You really are being very ridiculous today, you know.”

Charles plops down beside him on the grass and loops his arm around Erik’s, smiling when Erik pulls him a little closer and presses his cheek on top of his head. “I know. I have no idea why I was such an idiot, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, I forgive you,” Charles says, “and I know why. I’m sorry too for calling you weird. I didn’t mean it. You’re the bestest person I know.”

Erik smiles. “You too, Charles.”

They sit quietly for a few minutes, side by side, and watch as the MacTaggerts bring the cake out and set it on top of the patio table. The kids all clamor around as they get ready to cut the giant buttercream slab, though Erik would much rather stay sitting next to Charles than getting drawn over to the shouting crowd.

“Psst,” Charles whispers, “want to go and steal some candy from Shaw’s loot while they’re all distracted?”

Erik grins, and grabs a hold of Charles’ hand. “Yeah. That’s a great idea.”


	17. Firefighters AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 17\. Firefighters AU: Firefighters Logan and Erik give a safety talk to Charles' Kindergarten class.
> 
> Pairing: Cherik, Xavierine, Cherigan ?

None of the firefighters at Logan’s station will admit it, but they _all_ love doing live talks at the local schools (even Lehnsherr, who seems to make a point of never liking anything at all). It’s a nice way to spend a couple of low stress hours, talking to little kids and teaching them about fire safety, watching their faces light up when they arrive kitted up in their gear and driving the big red fire truck.

Of course the teachers usually appreciate the break from their regular curriculum too and – according to a drunk Moira at their last poker game – a lot of them also quite enjoy _the view_.

There’s just the three of them today, coming to meet the kindergarten class at Graymalkin – Logan, Erik, and the still wet behind the ears Summers kid, Alex, fresh out of the Academy. It’s his first time doing a community engagement like this, and his discomfort is obvious, which is why Logan asked Erik to come along and help ease him in.

Parking the truck at the front of the school, they head inside and find Moira – aka Principal MacTaggert already waiting, smiling as Erik introduces her to a visibly nervous Alex.

“Welcome to Graymalkin Public School, gentlemen,” she says, leading them down a familiar hallway towards the Kindergarten classroom. “The kids are super excited; they’ve been talking about it non-stop for the past two days.”

Erik snorts. “I should hope so. We’re up against finger painting and snack time.”

“Is there anything we need to know before we head in, Ma’am? Anyone with special needs?” Alex asks, keen to do this all very seriously and by the book. Logan smiles at a grinning Erik; they’re definitely going to saddle him with the kid (and there’s always one in every group) who asks _all_ the questions.

“No, nothing out of the ordinary. But we do have a new teacher, Mr. Xavier. He’s covering Ms. Braddock’s leave for the next few months.”

“How ‘new’?” Logan still has flashbacks about the time with the brand new substitute teacher, Mr. Cassidy, and the utter chaos his classroom descended into after only ten short minutes.

“You didn’t say anything about a new teacher,” Erik accuses.

Moira waves away their questions, grinning widely as they arrive outside the classroom door. “Some things are better discovered all on your own,” she replies. “Come say bye when you’re done with Charles and the children.”

Logan’s mind goes delightfully blank when the door opens and Mr. Xavier is suddenly standing there, an absolute _vision of hotness_ in khakis and a navy blue cardigan streaked with chalk.

“Hello, I’m Charles,” he says, and yeah he can tell Lehnsherr is just as stricken by how intently he’s staring at Xavier’s very red lips. “Welcome to Kindergarten class.”

* * *

Logan doesn’t remember much of the actual talk they give to the kiddies, as a) he’s done it enough times now that he can pretty much do it in his sleep, b) Lehnsherr’s actually doing most of the talking, attempting to impress the hot teacher apparently by demonstrating his ability to ‘speak stuff at kids’ and c) he can’t stop imagining Xavier soaking wet, his dark hair matted against his brow and his white shirt under the cardigan clinging enticingly against his chest. The latter actually has a very real chance of happening, on account of the fact that they always take the kids out to see the truck at the end of the talk, and finish off the visit with a – very controlled - shower from the firehose.

He can’t _wait_.

“—do you have to be really strong to be a firefighter?”

“Well, you do have to be pretty strong to wear the suit and carry all the heavy equipment. And you might have to carry someone out of a burning building, so you definitely need to work out.”

As expected one of the kids – a pretty girl named Jean, with long red hair and a mischievous smile – is asking Alex a litany of questions, and he’s doing an admirable job of keeping up with polite and age appropriate answers. But then she stops for a moment and just stares - first at Logan and then at Erik – and says, “Are you going to do another calendar this year? I heard Mommy ask Mrs. Pryde about it and they’re really excited about getting new pictures.”

Logan will swear this happened to his dying day, that Alex actually turns eight shades of red, and forgets to breathe for thirty seconds. Erik, the bastard is trying hard not to laugh, and even Mr. Xavier is chuckling under his breath, and trying to hide his smirk by redirecting the children’s attention to lining up so they can head out to see the fire truck.

But he stops and murmurs something to Erik, and winks at Logan, before he herds the class of four and five year olds expertly out the door.

Curious, Logan asks, “What’d he say?” 

Smirking, Erik answers, “He said he wants a calendar too.”


	18. 19th Century AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 18\. 19th Century AU: Shaw sets his eyes on omega Charles.
> 
> Pairing: Shaw/Charles, Cherik mentioned
> 
> Warnings: Noncon (not explicit), a/o
> 
> (Inspired by Atonement)

He agreed easily to a walk on the grounds, if only to get away from Kurt’s insufferable droning, and his mother’s poor attempts at hiding her boredom. Mr. Shaw followed him out of the drawing room and down the corridor without comment, only stopping to offer an arm to Charles when they stepped out into the balmy, June night.

“I should like to hear more about your studies, Charles,” the man said, leading them at a leisurely pace down the winding garden path. “I find it rather fascinating, the sciences, and wish I had the opportunity to learn more of it before I took over the family business.”

“I wouldn’t want to bore you,” he answered, still unsure of Shaw’s character and intentions, beyond his interest in doing business with his stepfather. “I’ve been told that I tend to rattle on until I bore everyone around me.”

The smile Shaw gave him was both warm and sincere, making him flush a little at the alpha’s obvious regard. “You could never. I assure you that you have my full and undivided attention.”

Charles couldn’t help but grin; only Erik had ever shown any interest in his passion, and even his patience for Charles’ prattling had its limits. Perhaps it would do his friend good to know that there were others who appreciated him too, and wanted to hear his thoughts and opinions; even a handsome, older man like Sebastian Shaw who was well experienced with the world beyond the confines of Xavier Manor.

They walked on for some time, as Charles shared in detail his interest in Charles Darwin’s work, with Shaw nodding along and asking an occasional question, his eyes intent as though enraptured by Charles’ words. It was heady, being on the receiving end of such keen interest and attention, and Charles found himself losing track of his surroundings, and how much time passed since they left for their walk.

He did not realize how far from the Manor they had travelled, until they were suddenly at the edge of the woods on their estate.

“Oh,” he startled, looking up at the dark canopy of the treetops, and the long shadows they cast upon the ground. “We have strayed too far off the path, Mr. Shaw. Let us turn back before they come searching for us.”

“Don’t worry,” Shaw said, turning to face Charles then and settling his hands on his shoulders. “We haven’t been gone for that long. And I have not had enough of your delightful company yet, or the chance to kiss your pretty, red lips.”

He could not respond, for Shaw immediately wrapped his arms around Charles and pulled their bodies flush, pressing their mouths together in a rough and heated kiss. It was so unexpected that Charles did not react for long moments, his mind reeling as Shaw plundered his mouth, hands roaming down his back to grab at this buttocks. By the time he thought to pull away, shoving hard against Shaw’s chest with a gasp, he was already being dragged roughly behind a tree, with Shaw’s body pinning him to the ground.

“What are you--? Get off of me!” he snarled, trying to buck against the heavier alpha, though he could not move his arms at all from the way Shaw was bracketing him with his knees. “Stop this or I’m going to scream!”

Under the faint light of the moon, he could see Shaw’s face partly in shadow, his eyes full of lust as he answered Charles with a darkly amused chuckle. “By all means, scream for help. And by the time they find us I’ll be buried inside your delicious cunt, and everyone will get an eyeful of their young Master Xavier, getting fucked in the dirt like a common whore.”

“You wouldn’t!” he cried, even as Shaw pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, and started winding it around Charles’ head. “No, please stop! Don’t do this! Please, I can’t…I’ve never—”

His words were cut off abruptly by the makeshift gag, and though he tried to scream he managed only to choke a little from the silk wedged awkwardly between his teeth.

“You’ve never what? Been fucked by an alpha, Charles? How fortuitous then for the both of us!” Shaw flipped him onto his stomach with a quick shove and twisted his right arm painfully behind his back, winding Charles and forcing him to wheeze through his gag. “I can make this very good for you, sweet boy, like a first time should be.” Then he pulled on Charles’ arm again until he let out a muffled scream, pain coursing up and into his shoulder until his eyes blurred with unshed tears. “Or I can make it hurt very badly indeed. Which is it going to be, hmm?”

He couldn’t make himself agree to it; to say yes to Shaw’s unwanted touch and consent to being raped by his stepfather’s guest. But there was no one near enough to stop Shaw in time, no matter how loudly he screamed, and Charles couldn’t let anyone _see_ him like this, the Xavier heir, no matter that it wasn’t his fault for being so utterly _defiled_ \--

He stopped struggling, and let his body go limp, biting down around the gag as Shaw yanked his trousers down and pushed _in._

* * *

"Thank you for the delightful tour of the grounds,” Shaw said, in front of his mother and stepfather, while his seed yet leaked down Charles’ thighs. Bruised and aching, he had no choice but to rely on Shaw’s help to get back to the Manor, though Charles had wanted to slip upstairs unnoticed, instead of being forced to exchange niceties after his treatment at the alpha’s hands. “I should like to call on you, Charles, as I thoroughly enjoyed your company this evening, and wish to do so again. Soon.”

He glared at Shaw in disbelief even as bile clogged his throat in revulsion and terror. “Your business is with my stepfather, Mr. Shaw; I don’t believe we have any reason to see each other again.”

He did not wait to hear Kurt’s remonstrations, or anything else that might fall from the vile monster’s mouth, hastening up the stairs until he reached his bedroom and locked the door behind him. There he retched into the chamber pot until his dinner had been emptied, and tried not to think about his violation, and how he’d wished his first time had been with someone other than Shaw – someone sweet and kind and who would _never_ \---

Charles fell asleep dreaming about Erik, and the kiss they’d shared before he’d gone to see his family in Kraków.

* * *

Two months later, Charles realized he was pregnant, and his family promptly married him off to the alpha who raped him.


	19. Single Parent(s) AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 19\. Single Parent(s) AU - Charles and Jean move to a new building.
> 
> Pairing: Gen

The apartment is older but obviously well maintained, with an open concept and old oak floors that Charles finds both appealing and easy to maneuver in his wheelchair. There are big windows too letting in plenty of sunlight, and a decent sized kitchen that’s sure to get much more use, now that he’s been thrust into the role of guardian and adoptive parent.

No more binging takeout and living off coffee and fumes; he’s going to _have_ to learn to cook a few easy and nutritious meals, or at least ones he can realistically bribe a telepathic eight year old to eat without too much trouble.

“Two bedrooms, you have a washer and dryer in the unit, and the bathroom was renovated just a couple of years ago. If there’s anything you need like shelves lowered or grab bars installed in the tub you just let me know. I can get it done for you before you move in.”

Mrs. Pryde, the building’s super is practical and thorough, and accommodating of his needs without sounding uncomfortable or pandering. It makes Charles feel better about moving into this new place, disrupting his routine with Jean after only a few months of living together. But Moira had been insistent that he check out the newly vacant unit, where she and her son Kevin have been living since her divorce a year ago. _Genosha_ was a tightly knit community for mutants and their families, and she was sure that Jean would benefit from the presence of other children like her.

Touring the building today, and having met some of the other tenants, Charles is certain too that they’ll settle in quite well.

“Thank you, Mrs. Pryde—”

“Call me ‘Theresa’ please, Professor,” she interrupts with a smile.

Charles grins. “Then you have to call me ‘Charles’ too. Everything looks great truly. I can’t wait to move in.”

“Good. I’ll have the paperwork done up and sent over to you ASAP. You’re going to love it here, Charles. You and Jean both.”

He certainly hopes so, considering how difficult the past few months have been for poor Jean, having lost both her parents so suddenly and then forced to move to another city to live with her godfather. Charles too has barely had time to grieve the loss of his closest friends, so focused he’s been on Jean’s welfare, and helping her through mourning and adjusting to a brand new life.

“I think so too,” he agrees, “I’m glad Moira and Kevin are close by. He and Jean are becoming fast friends.”

“Don’t forget my Kitty! She’s already decided to adopt Jean as an honorary little sister. So feel free to call on her for babysitting services any time.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he says, pleased not only to have another friendly face around, but specifically a mutant teenager that his goddaughter can look up to and seek out for advice. He knows he can’t be everything to Jean, no matter how much he wants to or how hard he tries; having a good support network she can access will be just as important in her healing process as the love and attention she gets from Charles. “Can you tell me anything else about the tenants on this floor? I only ask because we’re both telepaths, and Jean is still learning to control her powers…”

He leaves the rest unsaid, though he can tell from Theresa’s expression that she understands the implication, that more than most mutations, telepathy is still not well accepted by some humans and mutants. But she merely smiles and pats him reassuringly on the shoulder, leading them out of the apartment and down the hall.

“You won’t have any problems here, I promise. Logan lives right across the hall from you with his little girl, Laura. He’s a bartender, and works weird hours, so she’s over at our place quite a lot. You might think he’s gruff and unfriendly to look at him, but he’s a big old softy at heart.”

Charles smiles. “That’s good to know.”

“You already know Moira and Kevin at the end of the hall,” Theresa says, still talking as she leads him past the unit next to Charles’ and points at the door. “And the Lehnsherrs live here. Erik, with his twins Wanda and Pietro, and Erik’s mother, Edie.”

“A lot of single parents on this floor,” Charles jokes. “I’m starting to think it’s a prerequisite for getting a place here.”

Theresa snorts, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “If that were the case it would be all Edie’s doing. She loves taking care of everyone and playing the role of Jewish grandmother. You just wait and see. She’ll add you to her collection the day you move in.”

He picks up a series of images from Theresa’s thoughts, of a warm, friendly smile and gentle hands; an elderly woman in her early sixties, sharp and wiry with steel-blue eyes. Patting Charles’ head and wrapping her arms around Jean, and stuffing their arms full of homemade treats in Tupperware containers.

Charles laughs as he follows Theresa into the elevator, thinking that she might be exactly what Jean – and Charles – needs in their lives at the moment. “That’s wonderful. I can’t wait to meet her.”


	20. Professional Rivals + Futuristic AU (Part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 20\. Professional Rivals + Futuristic AU (Part 1) - Charles and Raven get a lucrative job offer.
> 
> Pairing: Cherik

She waits until Hank and the others leave the room, already planning the ways they’re each going to spend their cut of the proceeds, excitement palpable over what could be their biggest payday to date. It’s the largest sum they’ve ever been offered; a not insignificant amount, considering how long they’ve been doing this, hopping from planet to planet across the entire galaxy, taking whatever jobs best suit the skillset of their motley crew.

But this…

This job is going to get them _all_ killed, and Raven won’t even get the chance to tell her insufferable older brother ‘I told you so.’

“I already know what you’re going to say, Raven. You’re not going to change my mind.”

“If you read my mind than you know I have legitimate concerns.”

Charles swings his legs – shiny cybernetic ones, acquired after that unfortunate incident on Arathor 7 - off the table, and hoists himself up to grab another Narvian ale. “I don’t have to read your mind, darling. Your disapproval is written all over your lovely face.”

“So you don’t think there’s anything to worry about? A rescue operation for a crime lord’s daughter, from the clutches of the _Skoll_ on the planet Neso? A direct request from Winston Frost for our services specifically, out of all the mercenaries in this entire system—”

“’ _Contractors_ ’, please, Raven, not ‘ _mercenaries_ ’. We’re very expensive, and very, very good at what we do. Let’s not cheapen it by comparing ourselves to every wannabe with access to a few dated plasma rifles and a rust bucket for a ship,” he says with a smirk. 

Raven rolls her eyes, but doesn’t bother to argue his point – mostly on account of it being the truth; that very few crews can match them when it comes to sheer firepower, and the ingenuity of the inventions made by their resident weapons expert Hank McCoy. That, coupled with their individual mutations and the Blackbird boasting a state of the art propulsion drive, and there’s not much out there that they can’t (or haven’t) handled.

That doesn’t mean they should let themselves get overly confident, especially when the job smells like a possible setup to someone with Raven’s years of experience.

It should be abundantly clear to Charles too, which makes her wonder why he’s so eager to take the bait.

“Is this about Erik?” she asks, and oh he’s getting much better at hiding that flinch, though Raven’s had years to learn Charles’ every minute expression and facial tic. “You’re doing this just to stick it to him, aren’t you? Because Frost said he was next on the call list, if we didn’t take the job.”

Charles takes a long sip of his ale, deliberately taking his time to annoy Raven for calling him out. When he deigns to answer, he’s entirely too mellow and seemingly unconcerned, which means it’s absolutely eating him up inside to even hear the bastard’s name mentioned out loud.

“It’s a lucrative opportunity, and one I know we can handle if we’re quick and careful.” He offers Raven a sardonic grin, tossing the empty canister in the bin for reconstitution. “I know for a fact that Erik’s ‘quick’, but he’s not so good with the ‘careful’.”

Raven laughs, and she’s pleased to see Charles’ smile morph into something more genuine and warm. “Good thing we got rid of him then,” she says, and now it’s Charles’ turn to roll his eyes and laugh, snorting inelegantly when she adds, “Don’t worry. When this is all over, we’ll go to Gronr and get you something ten years younger than Erik, and twice as pretty.”

“That’ll be expensive,” Charles quips, “so we’d better get planning, and go rescue that lovely Ms. Frost.”


	21. Professional Rivals + Futuristic AU (Part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 21\. Professional Rivals + Futuristic AU (Part 2) - Erik shows up to make Charles' bad day worse.
> 
> Pairing: Cherik

In the fifteen years since Charles and Raven left Earth IV to roam the galaxy, there have only been a handful of times when he’s been truly afraid that they might not make it out alive. The first had been their kidnapping at the hands of Tarkussian slave traders, when Charles has been a mere fifteen year old miscreant and Raven scarcely twelve, and they’d stolen away on the wrong freighter to get off-world. The time Raven had been bitten by a Morgoss serpent, when they went salvaging off the coast of the Froni sea. And of course the Arathor 7 ‘incident’ with Erik and Sebastian Shaw, where Charles lost his legs and had to have them replaced with cybernetic ones after spending two bloody months in a coma.  
  
This particular mission is turning out to be just as bad for his health and his sanity, only this time, Charles is very much on his own.

_‘Charles, where are you? We’ve got to get back to the ship right now!’_

“I’m trying,” he hollers, ducking just as a plasma shot burns a hole right beside his head, the volley of gunfire deafening both here and on Raven’s side of the comms. “I’m pinned down here on Deck 4! Don’t wait for me; just get the others back to the ship now!”

_‘Goddammit Charles I’m not leaving without you!’_ Raven yells back, and he can hear shouts of agreement from Alex and Darwin through the comms, along with a string of exceptionally creative curses from a highly agitated Sean. _‘Stay there! We’ll come and get you!’_

“You can’t.” He’s about two minutes away from running out of ammo, and waves of very pissed off Skoll keep slowly advancing towards him down the dimly lit hall. “There’s hundreds of them between you and me, Raven. Go. Save yourselves.”

Another shot, this time pinging off his deflector shield right above his heart. A few more direct hits and the generator will get shorted, and then the plasma will burn right through his damned armor plating…

If he gets hit it had better be a clean fucking shot, he thinks; he’d rather die than risk having another fucking limb blown off.   
  
_‘Fuck that,’_ Raven snarls, _‘you don’t get to die unless I’m the one killing you, do you hear me, Charles? You stay_ alive _until I find–”_

“I love you,” he says, before cutting their comms, and rolling into an alcove so he can get out of sight and take a few deep breaths. He yanks the portable explosive Hank packed for him in this gear, arming the detonator to voice command so he can set it off as soon as Raven and the others get clear.

Even if they don’t make it back to the ship by the time Charles runs out of ammo, the resulting explosion should tear a large enough hole in the space station to distract the Skolls on their tail.

_Let’s keep that option to the very last, shall we Mr. Xavier? I vote we try getting out of this mess the old fashioned way._

An explosion goes off behind him in the hall, distracting him from answering the telepathic message, or even wondering who can be talking to him from a distance with all the psi dampening tech built into the damn station walls. A wave of gunfire erupts from a previously sealed door, and suddenly Charles finds himself flanked by three other bodies, armored in the Brotherhood’s signature red and black.

Of course it would be just like Erik to show up out of the blue, and make Charles’ bad fucking day even _worse_.

“Fuck me,” Charles mutters, just as fresh wave of Skoll reinforcements arrive and start shooting, pushing them all back towards the room where his would-be rescuers appeared. Even with help they can’t keep this up for very long, before the Skoll’s sheer numbers will overwhelm them where they stand.

“Arm. Detonate at 50%. 5 seconds,” he shouts, as he pushes his plan none too gently into Erik’s head. Then he tosses the device right behind the Skoll’s portable shield generator, as Erik tears great hunks of the metal off the walls to seal them in from the blast.

The resulting explosion brings down a huge chunk of Deck 5 into the hall, enough to block - temporarily at least - any Skolls who didn’t get caught immediately in the blast. And Charles finds himself somehow still breathing and in one piece, well protected behind a massive barricade with his former lover and now rival, _Erik fucking Lehnsherr_.

He knows he’s going to deny it to his dying day, but it’s most definitely relief, but also _feelings_ that makes him grab Erik’s face and pull him into a passionate, open mouthed kiss.

It’s also _feelings_ that make him haul off and punch that same smug face, knocking him right off his feet with a grunt.

Wincing, Erik merely rubs at his jaw and gives him a sheepish grin. “It’s good to see you too, Charles.”

“Don’t try and sweet talk me, Erik. What the fuck are you doing here?”

“He’s here to save you,” a voice answers, the _same_ voice Charles heard in his head only moments ago it seems. “You were set up by my father, and by Sebastian Shaw.”

“Your father?” he asks, just as the helmet comes off, revealing long cascading blonde hair and a very familiar face. It’s Emma Frost, daughter of crime lord Winston Frost and the very person they’re supposed to be looking for, though its abundantly clear that she requires no saving. “Fucking– And Shaw! Again! How? Oh, god I’m never going to hear the end of this from Raven.”

Dragging himself back up and onto his feet, Erik shoulders his rifle and lets out a tired sigh. Charles does _not_ think about kissing him again, or how handsome he looks with a new beard and slightly longer hair. “It’s a long story. Let’s get the hell out of here, and we’ll tell you everything we know.”

“I can teleport us to the Genosha,” the third Brotherhood crew member - who turns out to be Azazel - says. “It’s closer to our location than the Blackbird. You can call Raven and then we can reconvene with your team somewhere safe.”

“I know you have no reason to trust me after what happened, Charles,” Erik says, “just…let me help you. Like old times?”

It’s a bad idea, he knows, spending any amount of time around Erik Lehnsherr, not only for his health but also for his still broken heart. So he’ll just accept the help off the station and get whatever information he can about Shaw, and then walk away and not let himself get sucked back into Erik’s bullshit…

Yet again.

“Fine,” Charles says, ignoring Erik’s relieved smile. “Let’s get out of this hell hole before my sister burns this whole place down.” 


	22. Arranged Marriage AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 22\. Arranged Marriage AU - Shaw and his General Erik share omega!Charles
> 
> Pairing: Erik/Charles/Shaw
> 
> An au of my 'Tribute to the Horde' verse

Erik is just finishing his noon meal when Shaw comes to collect him, steering them both in the direction of the Chieftain’s tent. He sets a brisk pace, ignoring various greetings and well wishes along the way, leaving Erik to acknowledge them all with a quick nod of his head. The urgency isn’t surprising, as he knows what awaits them in Shaw’s quarters; Erik just doesn’t know what _he’s_ doing here, hours before the ceremony’s planned start.

After all, Erik and the other Generals - Azazel and Emma - have already greeted Westchester’s Prince upon his arrival to the encampment, and accorded him the full honor of a proper Genoshan welcome.

It’s more than Shaw cared to arrange for his soon-to-be mate, leaving it to his Generals to make the choice to do so on their own.

“So, what do you think of Westchester’s tribute, Erik?” Shaw asks, as they make the way up the incline, Erik following after his adoptive father into the main living area of his lodging. The prince is taking tea with Hank, and smiling a little as they converse in his native tongue, though his expression closes off the moment he and Shaw enter the room. “Is he worth as much as the Markos say? I wonder at their claim; that he remains a virgin yet, at the ripe age of seventeen. A pretty thing like him…I find it hard to believe that father and son have never had him together on his hands and knees.”

Hank flushes a deep red, coughing uncomfortably at the blatant disrespect, though Shaw merely smiles indulgently at the Prince and presses a light kiss to his hand. Quick introductions are made, which Hank translates for the two parties, no doubt ameliorating Shaw’s boorishness with pretty if meaningless words. It’s disingenuous, Erik thinks, to let the boy think Shaw is capable of decency or kindness; better to let him know Shaw as he is without any pretence from the start.

“Ask him if he’s really a virgin still,” Shaw orders, still wearing his most charming smile.

Deeply mortified, but forced to comply, Hank relays the question with a few hastily muttered words. It has an instant effect on their guest – as Shaw undoubtedly intended – with the Prince’s face turning red and thunderous as he snaps a brisk, unhappy retort. 

“His Highness wants to assure you that his virginity is intact,” Hank says, “and that his people would not dishonor the treaty between Westchester and Genosha with any deceit.”

Erik scoffs. Shaw thinks very little of the treaty he signed with the Markos, viewing them merely as puppets to be threatened and kept under control. The reason the Genoshans haven’t conquered Westchester is entirely for their own benefit and Shaw’s; because it’s much easier to demand tribute than take on the governance of an entire kingdom full of people.

“That’s good to hear,” Shaw says gleefully, even though Genoshans place no special value to a person’s virginity, unlike what he knows of Westchester tradition. Erik has lived long enough in Shaw’s shadow to know it’s purely about the man’s own pleasure and amusement; his delight in getting a mate he can mold to satisfy his every desire and whim. “You may leave us now, Hank.”

“But he doesn’t—”

Shaw cuts him off with a wave of his hand. “The Prince needs his rest now, before the ceremony begins. We won’t be needing your translation services, Hank, until tomorrow at the earliest.”

To Erik’s surprise, Hank looks ready to argue with Shaw, no doubt to advocate for the Prince and ensure his understanding of their customs. It is a kindness, he knows, that would only anger their Chieftain, and Erik shoots him a warning glare before he can make things worse for himself and for Charles.

Resigned, Hank bows his head to Shaw and says a quick farewell to Charles before exiting the tent.

“Now, let us take a better look at our prize, shall we dear boy? A preview of what the evening will bring?”

“I don’t think—”

Ignoring him, Shaw takes the Prince by the elbow, and gently but firmly pushes him beyond the tent flap and into the inner bed chamber. Startled, and clearly a little frightened of being alone with two alphas, Charles follows only reluctantly as he’s guided to a spot beside Shaw’s fur covered bed.

“You are very beautiful,” the Chieftain murmurs, brushing his hand against the Prince’s cheek, making him blush as he leans close and inhales the sweet omega scent. “I wonder…will you cry the first time I knot you, pretty one? Or will you beg me to fuck you harder with those red, red lips?”

Though he can’t understand a word being said, Shaw’s intent is abundantly clear, and yet Charles doesn’t flinch or try to pull away from his grasp. Instead he takes a deep breath and steels himself, his expression a mixture of resignation and defiance, and Erik can’t help but agree with Shaw that he’s never seen anything more beautiful than Westchester’s tribute to the Horde.

And when Shaw reaches for Charles’ collar, and rips the whisper thin robe clean off his body, Erik finds that he cannot stop _staring_ ; cannot stop devouring all that silky flesh and longing to run his fingers along every inch of smooth, unblemished skin.

He does not have to be told, to use his powers and remove the hideous chastity belt, and then sliding the plug out of him with a soft, wet schlick.

Charles opens his mouth a little and shudders, but remains standing dutifully in place.

“Come now, my boy,” Shaw cajoles, as he runs his hand slowly down the curve of Charles’ back to the slope of his buttocks, pinching and prodding and making him gasp. “By tradition, the princeling will be the Chieftain’s mate. But I am quite happy to share with you, and the others, so we may all enjoy this endless bounty.”

“You would let us…beyond the ceremony? But the people—”

“What will the people care,” Shaw scoffs, as he rubs a finger along the rim of Charles’ entrance, making him whimper when he slots the entire length in, “as long as the Bearer gives us plentiful heirs? He’s an omega, Erik, made for pleasure and for breeding. It would be a waste not to share him with the most trusted of my clan.”

To bribe them, his Generals, and keep them in line, though Erik can’t deny that the Prince is a very tempting and generous incentive.

“We must do this properly, and wait for the bonding ceremony,” he hears himself say. “I won’t dishonor his place amongst our people by denying him a public mounting.”

Shaw grins, as he tugs Charles down and onto the furs, soothing him with light touches and a tender kiss on the brow. “Yes, we will wait to mount him properly at the feast, as is his right. But there are other things we can do now, to make his first time that much easier…for _his_ sake.”

Looking down at the omega spread before him like a feast, Erik can only nod, and push his own finger in to join Shaw’s inside that delectably tight passage. “For his sake, yes, we should help as much as we can.”


	23. Private Detective(s) AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 23\. Private Detective(s) AU - PD Charles is accused of Shaw's murder
> 
> Pairing: Erik/Shaw, Cherik

Scott comes back into the interrogation room fifteen minutes later, setting a cup of coffee in front of Charles with a tired sigh. They’ve been at this for over four hours now, and getting no closer to a resolution, even if they both want to prove Charles’ innocence over the murder of one Sebastian Shaw.

In Scott’s case, it’s because Charles is his friend and his mentor, the senior officer who took him under his wing before quitting the force and going into private practice. He’s trusted Charles with his life many times – and would do it again in a heartbeat – and can’t fathom how he’d gotten so deeply entangled with the Senator’s affairs.

In Charles’ case, it’s because he _has_ no good answers; at least none that make him look less like the prime suspect of a vicious, calculated murder. 

“You say his wife came to see you. A Mrs. Emma Frost-Shaw.”

“Yes.”

_“You must get these requests quite a lot, Mr. Xavier,” the woman says, flipping her long blonde hair off her pristine fur collar. Seated in his office, slowly sipping on Charles’ cheap bourbon, Mrs. Shaw is the very vision of unmatched sophistication and wealth. “I’m sure you know the drill. I require evidence. Photographic evidence of my husband’s infidelity. I can give you some details about his daily schedule to help you get started.”_

_“That would be most helpful,” Charles answers, taking a long drink from his glass. He doesn’t know much about Sebastian Shaw beyond the occasional news item on TV or in the paper, but Charles would hazard a guess at the type of man he is just from this brief encounter with his wife. “I hope you don’t mind my saying so Mrs. Shaw—”_

_“Emma.” She licks her lips, her eyes intent as she meets Charles’ gaze, and very slowly, deliberately, crosses her long, long legs._

_Charles grins, drinking in every magnificent inch of her perfect, gorgeous frame. “Emma. I find it hard to believe that your husband would feel the need the seek companionship elsewhere, with such a beautiful wife at home.”_

_Eyes glittering, she leans forward just a little, and brushes his knee with her fingertips. “A man wants what he doesn’t have, Mr. Xavier. And what Sebastian wants, I certainly can’t give.”_

Scott throws an open folder on the desk and nudges it over to Charles. “Sebastian Shaw. Age 50. Parents deceased. No siblings. Divorced in 1964. Currently unmarried with no children.” He pauses for a moment, before he adds, “He doesn’t have a wife. You’re a private investigator, Charles! How could you not know that this woman’s an imposter?”

“I get a dozen of these cases a month; rich housewife wants to know if her husband is cheating on her! Why would I assume she was lying to me, Scott? Especially with all the intel she gave me? She knew his daily schedule! She knew his favorite restaurants and how he likes his eggs! She knew about Shaw clearing an afternoon once a week to head out of the city!”

“Where does he go?” Scott asks. “What did you find?”

_Shaw switches cars before he heads out of the city, swapping his expensive Mercedes for a more inconspicuous Ford sedan at a local garage. Driving for a half hour out of Manhattan, he finally stops at a non-descript motel off the Interstate, and checks into a room on the ground floor._

_Room six, as Charles watches from his parked car, snapping a picture of the Senator as he heads inside._

_Taking a swig out of his flask, Charles settles into this seat for a long wait._

_Two hours later, Shaw re-emerges from the room and drives off in his Ford._

_Ten minutes after that, a man exits room six – tall, handsome, with brown hair and broad shoulders – and gets on his motorcycle, heading off in the opposite direction._

_That night he takes the pictures of Shaw, and the mystery man, and develops them in his dark room._

_He doesn’t turn them over to Emma, or tell her what he saw._

“Nothing. There was nothing to find.”

_The same thing happens the following week, with the Senator making the same trip to the same motel, to meet the same man in room six._

_The motel clerk tells him a ‘Max Eisenhardt’ has been coming for the past three months, always renting the same room and paying cash each time. A generous tip gets some gossip garnered from the cleaning staff; someone is definitely having sex – and very messy sex at that – for hours every week in room six._

_Charles pays for the room next door, and presses his ear to the wall, listening to the moans and occasional slapping sounds, and Shaw’s loud, pleasurable cry when he comes._

_Later, when Charles gets home and develops the new photos, he jerks off to the new pictures he’s taken of Max, and fantasizes about fucking him in Shaw’s place._

Scott shakes his head. “You found nothing? You expect me to believe that you would stay on a case for weeks if you found nothing?”

_The next week, Charles gets to the motel an hour early, and plants a listening device in the room before the two men arrive for their clandestine meeting._


	24. Steampunk AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 24\. Steampunk AU - Erik seeks funding from the Duke for his adamantium factory
> 
> Pairing: Cherik

Truthfully, Erik expected this meeting with Stark to go no differently than the others taken thus far; an invitation to dinner, an interrogation of his family background and upbringing and only mildly feigned interest in his line of work. This was not what he had in mind when he set off for London at his father’s behest, to secure additional funding needed to expand their factory in Düsseldorf.

He had little hope of actually getting an appointment with the Duke, who kept long, if irregular hours in his labs and spent the balance in secret gatherings with his friends. Or so he’d been told by the Viscountess Frost, the only interesting and tolerable person at Stryker’s dinner party, and who promised an introduction once she saw a sample of the new metal alloy they had ready for mass production.

Adamantium - Erik’s own invention – that was ten times more flexible and twenty times harder than steel.

What he did _not_ expect was to be called upon by the Duke late one evening, and then delivered by coach to a bustling tavern, located in a rowdy district in the heart of the city. And he was surprised yet again when his associate Ms. Potts appeared to greet him at the door, her genteel presence a stark contrast to the drunken patrons sprawled across the tables and lingering at the bar.

With a smile, she beckoned Erik to follow, and led him to the back of the large room to an unmarked door. A flight of steps took them down to the basement level where the cellar would be, only, it was a cavernous space packed with more people, all of them encircling a makeshift boxing ring.

And there, in the midst of a bout were two young men clad only in their trousers, their waistcoats and shirts discarded in careless piles on the floor.

The crowd roared as the two parried and jabbed, shouting invectives and encouragement in equal measure. Erik could see a lady with red hair marking and collecting bets, while servers circulated throughout, keeping the spectators well supplied with ale and spirits. It surprised him to see that many bore the sign of good breeding and wealth, and even more to see them mingling so freely with the common folk. It was a side of London he had not seen since his arrival, and it did much to improve his impression of the city and its people.

He did not however, understand why the Duke wanted Erik to meet him _here_?

Ms. Potts waved away that very question with an enigmatic smile, and simply settled Erik into a seat and pressed a fresh ale into his hands.

With no choice left but to wait for the man’s arrival, Erik took a sip from his mug and turned his attention to the ring. The two boxers - both dark haired and handsome, and younger than Erik’s twenty eight - were clearly tiring, each landing more blows as the match dragged on, though neither seem willing to concede the fight. In size and build they appeared evenly matched, though the one sporting a beard was slightly taller than the other. Sweat made their muscles glisten under the dim kerosene lights, stirring a dangerous desire in Erik that he was quick to clamp down tight.

Then the bearded one fell to a well landed punch, and the crowd veritably roared with approval.

The winner helped his opponent back on his feet, the two sharing a hearty embrace, both grinning ear to ear as they slung their arms around each other’s shoulders. It was clear that the two were good friends, and immensely popular with the crowd, as everyone joined in to cheer loudly and chant their names.

“Tony! Charles! Another round!”

“Later!” the bearded one shouted, “I’m in desperate need of a drink!”

“A drink, and then I’m afraid that’s it for tonight,” his friend said, as the two ambled over to Erik’s table. “You have a meeting, remember? With Mr. Lehnsherr about his factory?”

Looking up in horror, Erik realized too late that he’d been ogling the semi-clad form of - a very youthful - Duke Anthony Stark.

(Though truthfully, his lustful thoughts were more inclined towards the Duke’s even younger looking friend.)

He stood abruptly and offered his hand. “Yes, Your Grace! It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Grinning, the Duke raked his eyes unashamedly over Erik’s body, and even squeezed his hand a little in lieu of shaking it outright. “Emma was right, wasn’t she, Charles? He _is_ quite the handsome devil.”

Charles laughed and nudged the Duke in the ribs, making him grunt. “Behave. You don’t want to make Mr. Lehnsherr uncomfortable, do you? He’s only known you for five seconds.”

“Charles darling, that’s all it takes,” the Duke - Tony - answered, before he grinned again and gave Erik an exaggerated bow. “Mr. Lehnsherr. Please forgive my poor manners. I am the infamous Anthony Stark, Duke of Somerset, and this is my oldest and dearest friend, Charles Xavier, Earl of Westchester.”

Of course this would be Xavier, who Erik knew to be the Duke’s closest confidante, and fellow scientist and co-inventor of both Stark’s iron suits and his fleet of airships - the best and largest in all the Commonwealth.

He just had no idea they were both so _young_ , and in Charles’ case - so unbearably handsome.

Up close, Erik could see the man’s features much more clearly, and found himself strangely captivated by the blue of Xavier’s eyes. He coughed a little, and willed his nerves away before extending his hand to the Earl with a smile. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, My Lord.”

“I assure you, Mr. Lehnsherr, the pleasure is _all mine_.”

Tony rolled his eyes, and threw himself into a chair at Erik’s table. “Business now, flirt later,” he teased. “First I want to know everything about you, Mr. Lehnsherr, and that lovely bulge in your pocket.”

“Tony!” Charles gasped, though he winked knowingly at Erik, making him smile.

“I meant the adamantium, you unrepentant scoundrel! Now, shall we discuss business?”

Erik could only laugh as he sank down once more into his chair. “Yes, please. And I shall endeavour to make this worth your while.”


	25. Monster Hunters AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 25\. Monster Hunters AU - Logan vows to save Charles from his vampire lover
> 
> Pairing: Xavierine, Cherik

They chose to wait in the study by the roaring fire, quiet as the rain lashed against the windows that overlooked the manor’s grounds. Occasionally, a streak of lightning would illuminate the sky around Graymalkin, and though Logan kept a close watch he saw nothing stirring beyond the trees swaying in the storm.

No living creature would consider venturing out in weather like this.

It was a perfect night to catch a vampire.

Behind him, Charles poured another drink from the crystal flask, and handed it to Logan with a weak smile. He was still pale from the creature’s last visit, the bite marks on his neck and wrist still visible when he moved. It stirred something in Logan to see him in danger and in obvious pain; not for himself but for the monster who would not leave him alone.

And would surely claim him in undeath, if Logan didn’t put an end to his nightly visits.

“You must think me so foolish,” he said, eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Even now, I don’t want you to hurt him, Mr. Howlett. I just…he was my…”

Logan took a sip of his whisky and shook his head. “I don’t think you’re foolish, Mr. Xavier. But you must know that he’s no longer your…friend. Not truly. His lust for blood now outweighs any sense of morality or sympathy he might have had for his victims. And even his feelings, and yours, will not stop him from hurting you.”

“Still…” Charles hesitated, and his distress made Logan want to sweep him into his arms and comfort him. “Please, will you try to reason with him first? Before you use your weapons to fight?”

Logan understood his reticence; Xavier was a gentleman and aristocrat, who preferred battling with wits and words to guns and bloodshed. And though he’d been carefully circumspect, Logan knew that the creature had been his long-time lover, and the two shared a deep bond before the curse had taken Lehnsherr from his side. But Logan’s been battling all manner of monsters for most of his preternaturally long life, and he knows that violence is the only real and true answer.

Instead, he offers this to Xavier, “I’ll do what I can, I promise. But I won’t let him hurt you again.”

Charles nodded, and his eyes drifted over to Logan’s pack. Reaching in, he pulled out a long, curved dagger, two custom revolvers and then his crossbow, setting one by one on the fancy writing desk with gentleness and care. “Will you show me your weapons? I think…perhaps it won’t be as shocking later, if you tell me a little of what you plan to do?”

It was a sound suggestion, as Charles would need to know to stay well out of the way of the inevitable fight. And it would not hurt either, to teach him to use the knife, as a precaution should Logan somehow fail to stop Lehnsherr from trying to drink from him again. 

* * *

Later, Logan would blame a combination of factors for his grave mistake, dooming him to a pitiful and appalling fate. 

* * *

“What will you do, if your weapons don’t work?” Charles asked, as they lay together before the fire, warming their flushed and naked skin. It’d been impossible to resist, when Charles reached for him, and drew him into a desperate, heated kiss. Somehow, touching him was the only thing Logan wanted, even knowing what was out there, waiting to reclaim what belonged to him. “I don’t want you to get hurt protecting me.”

“He can’t hurt me,” Logan said, revealing his most precious secret without a second thought. Looking into those guileless blue eyes, he wanted nothing more than to make Charles happy, and to set his mind at ease. “I have a gift. A natural ability to heal that makes me virtually unkillable.”

Charles’ eyes gleamed in the firelight, his breath hitching as he smiled and wrapped his arms around Logan’s neck. “That’s incredible, Logan. You’re amazing; I’ve never met anyone like you.”

“I’ve never met anyone like _you_ ,” he replied with great feeling, and walked willingly into the abyss.

* * *

He woke to find himself seated in the armchair, his head fuzzy and his body bound from his shoulders on down by thick metal chains.

“Tell me, Hunter,” said the silky smooth voice from the man at the window, his silhouette limned by firelight. “Shall I simply cut off your head, for planning to kill me? Or should I take my time bleeding you first, as you took your time taking what’s mine?”

“He’s not yours,” Logan snarled, though he felt strangely weak and could scarcely move his limbs even if he hadn’t been constrained so completely. “Charles is a good man, Lehnsherr. If you ever cared about him…let him live his life in peace. Let him go.”

Lehnsherr barked a laugh, the sound stark and foreboding, eyes glittering in the half light as he came to kneel next to Logan. So close he could see the creature clearly, skin white as marble and eyes a sharp grey-blue, perfectly chiselled like a marble sculpture crafted by a master’s hand.

“You poor soul,” Lehnsherr said, as he cupped Logan’s cheek with his long, smooth fingers, “brave and stupid to the end.”

Then Logan felt it, twin pricks of pain as teeth punctured his skin, and a greedy tongue lapping the blood spilling white hot from his veins.

“Charles? What—”

Lehnsherr smiled, and bent to taste Logan’s blood dripping from his lover’s lips.


	26. Flower Shop AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 26\. Flower Shop AU - Erik mistakes Raven and Charles as bride and groom
> 
> Pairing: Cherik

“Mama, I’m terrible at this kind of thing,” Erik says, as he waters the last of the stock in the cooler, and turns on the register for the day. He watches the program boot up on screen, frowning a little at how long it’s taking to load up his mother’s ancient computer. “Can’t we just reschedule the meeting? You’re home _sick_ —”  
  
“And you’re not,” Edie interrupts with a soft chuckle. “It’s just a preliminary consultation. Just show the nice young couple some samples from the book, and try and get a sense for what they like. No big decisions today, so you don’t have to worry.”

“I hate weddings. I don’t understand spending thousands of dollars on flowers just for a few short hours.”

This time, his mother doesn’t bother hiding her laugh, which makes Erik feel inordinately proud of being so contrary. “Half my profits come from weddings, dear, so plenty of people disagree with you. Now please, just take this appointment for me? Or do I need to come down there myself with a stuffy nose and a terrible headache?”

Erik scoffs. “ _Fine_. I will take the appointment and show them pretty arrangements. If only to put an end to that shameless guilt trip you’re laying on your favorite son.”

“You’re my _only_ son, _boychik_ , and thank you so much for your help; I really appreciate it!”

“Good _bye_ , and make sure you get lots of rest,” he says, grinning as he hangs up. There’s another fifteen minutes to go before the bride and groom are due, so Erik pops into the back to put on a pot of fresh coffee and some samples on the table.

He might not believe in weddings but Erik’s always had an eye for composition and colour, and makes the best arrangements for his mother’s shop.

(Though he does it only on occasion now, with so much of his time spent at his Stark Industries day job.)

The bell rings at five minutes after nine, and he dries his hands off with a clean cloth, and heads to the front to let the couple in.

He does not expect that simple act to completely knock him off kilter.

The couple at the door is…well beautiful is the most appropriate word, young and vibrant and clearly excited for the big day. The blonde is stylish and well heeled, clothed in an understated way that speaks to a lifetime of wealth. By contrast her fiancé is dressed in a worn navy cardigan over a pair of plain khaki trousers, entirely unfashionable for one so handsome and fit.

Also, he’s gorgeous with dark hair and blue eyes and exactly Erik’s type.

“Hi, I’m Raven, and this is Charles. We have an appointment with Edie about flowers for my wedding?”

Erik clears his throat and waves them in. “Yes, sorry hi. I’m Erik and Edie is my mother. Unfortunately she’s not feeling well today but she asked me to show you some samples for ideas?”

“Oh I do hope Ms. Edie is alright,” Charles says, and god even his voice is perfect, sending a little shiver up Erik’s spine.

“She’ll be fine, thank you. Just needs a day to rest and do nothing on the couch.”

Charles snorts. “That’s every day for you, Raven.”

“Shut up! You’re one to talk! You haven’t moved off the couch since the end of the semester!”

They continue their good natured bickering as they follow Erik to the back, and Erik offers them cream and sugar for their coffee as they settle at the worktable. He’s dressed it up with a nice tablecloth and proper place setting, and an arrangement of pink and cream roses and dahlias in one vase, and peonies in shades of coral and red in another.

“Oh these are beautiful!” Raven exclaims, while Charles nods in agreement, beaming at Erik like he’s the most brilliant person he’s ever met. It’s gratifying, to know he hasn’t lost his touch, and he shifts easily into ‘florist mode’, asking them questions and guiding them through the available options for their outdoor wedding in Westchester.

It’s going exceptionally well - and his mother will be _very pleased_ with the potential size of the order – though he wishes he wasn’t quite so unreasonably disappointed over a man he’s just met.

It doesn’t help that Charles keeps eyeing him, and giving him such warm, friendly smiles.

Raven’s cell rings as they’re going over ideas for the bridal bouquet, and she picks up immediately after checking the caller ID.

“Hi baby. Yes I’m with the florist now, and he has the most _amazing_ idea for what we can do with the floral arch—”

Charles grins sheepishly as Raven scrambles out of the chair and moves to take the call in the front room. “Sorry about that. Youngest child. She’s got terrible manners.”

Erik chuckles. “That’s alright. She’s just swept up with planning for the wedding.” Then he looks at Charles and adds, “You must be excited too, for the big day.”

“Well yes of course but there’s not much for me to do but run errands and walk her down the aisle. She’ll probably forget I exist the moment she says ‘I do’ with Hank.”

It takes a few seconds for the words to actually sink in but then Erik blurts out, “Wait…you’re not the groom?”

He’d find the expression on Charles’ face hilarious, if his mind would just stop blaring HE’S NOT ENGAGED, HE’S NOT GETTING MARRIED.

“You thought…me and _Raven_?” Charles asks, equally flabbergasted by Erik’s (very valid) assumption. “Oh my god, no! She’s my sister!”

Of course that’s the moment Raven steps back into the room, her smile morphing into confusion at the looks on their faces. “What? What’d I miss?”

Charles starts laughing and shakes his head. “Erik thought I was Hank! He thought you and I were the ones getting married!”

“Ew, gross no!” Raven says, “How could you think I would marry _him_? He dresses like an old man!”

“I do not dress like an old man—”

“Yes you do!”

“Actually,” Erik interrupts, “I like the way you dress. And also…can I get your number?”

Raven rolls her eyes at them both and grabs her purse. “Unbelievable. I can’t believe you’re picking up hot guys at the _flower shop_ now, Charles. I’m going to call Hank back and tell him he was right. And _you_ , get his number already so we get back to discussing the wedding!”

“Well…I guess I better give you my number then,” Charles says, as they watch Raven waltz out of the room again. “Gotta do what the bride says.”

“Yes,” Erik agrees, giving Charles his cell to add in his number. He grins. “It’s the bride’s prerogative to always get her way.” 


	27. Fashion & Models AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 27\. Fashion & Models AU - Erik makes extra money selling nude photos
> 
> Pairing: Erik/Shaw

“You know I can get you an interview with Shaw, if you want to make some actual money and stop eating cup noodles for dinner.”

Erik sighs. It’s the third night in a row he’s had to forgo an edible meal, with his money getting sucked up buying books for the new semester and a replacement transmission for his beat up old Honda. The offer gets more tempting every time Azazel says it, given the run of bad luck he’s been having lately with his finances.

Though this is the first time he’s really, _seriously_ considered it; selling nude photos to a porn site specializing in mutants.

“Suppose I do want you to get me an interview—”

Azazel grins. “Seriously? I thought for sure you were going to say no again; hold on to your precious pride instead of making next month’s rent.”

He grimaces, and jabs the wooden chopsticks into his half eaten slop. “It’s not about that alright? I just don’t think it’s right, helping a bunch of humans jerk off to mutants, when most of them don’t even consider us people.”

“Sure maybe that’s some of them,” Azazel concedes, stuffing his face with a take-out burger as Erik steals a French fry off his plate. “But a lot of mutants use the site too. Sometimes we just want to get our rocks off to a sexy devil with red skin, and not some boring old human with no tail.”

Erik rolls his eyes and throws a fry at him. “I don’t know how your giant ego even fits into this tiny apartment, Az.”

“Sure, sure, _I’m_ the egomaniac,” Azazel says with a smirk. “So how serious are you about this? Say the word and I’ll call him. Set it up.”

He thinks about the bills he’s got piling up on his desk, the measly wage he makes at the Apple store and how much he really _hates_ cup noodles and sighs. “How much are we talking about? For a few photos?”

Azazel pretends to look him up and down, assessing him in his ratty hoody and ripped jeans and shrugs. “Enough to get groceries for the next couple of months, and maybe some new clothes so you can actually get someone to date you.”

“I don’t have time to date.” He stops being sneaky about picking off Azazel’s fries, and just dumps half of them onto a paper plate, giving up on the noodles. “You think this Shaw guy will take me on?”

“Sure. He likes mutants of all kinds, and you’re a good looking guy,” Azazel says, before adding with a smirk. “’Course you could always just suck his dick. I’m sure he’d give you a job or two for a good b.j.”

Erik makes a face. “How old is he? I’m not that desperate yet.”

“Don’t worry. He’s like twenty, twenty five years older than us but he’s totally hot. And I _know_ he’s got a nice dick.”

“Scheisse, Az, you’re such a slut,” he says, grinning and shaking his head. “I’m not going to fuck some random guy I just met for a job; I’ve got standards.”

Standards that end up being thoroughly tested, when he meets Sebastian Shaw three days later.

* * *

“Please, take off your clothes.”

“I’m sorry…you want me to do what?”

Shaw’s request surprises him, as with everything else that’s happened in their meeting thus far. Even with Azazel’s positive description, Erik still expected someone much different than the one he met; someone older looking and a little lecherous, and not very generous with pay. Instead, he finds a very handsome, professional and charming man in Sebastian Shaw, with a fine appreciation for every kind of mutation, including (or maybe _especially_ ) Erik’s.

Leaning forward in his chair, he refills Erik’s glass with another shot of fine whisky and smiles. “You’re very handsome, Erik, and I can see that you’re in very good shape. But since I’m paying for nude photos I’m sure you understand why I’d like to see what’s actually underneath your clothes.”

“Do you always ask potential employees to strip for you, Mr. Shaw?” he asks, though it comes out less confrontational than the words imply. Erik doesn’t quite know how he feels about the request, except that he’s uncomfortable for reasons that he doesn’t want to acknowledge yet.

(That maybe he _wants_ Shaw to see him naked, his eyes raking possessively over Erik’s nude flesh…)

“I do,” Shaw answers simply, without any shame or pretence. “I’m very hands on with the business – no pun intended – and I personally select every single mutant that poses for my site. If my request makes you uneasy, we can part ways now with no hard feelings. Though…” He gets up from his chair and comes to stand beside Erik, leaning back against his desk with a quirked brow. “I didn’t peg you for being the shy type, Mr. Lehnsherr. Maybe this _isn’t_ the thing for you, if you’re not really comfortable with nudity.”

Defiance burns low in his gut, as he pushes up from his chair and pulls his grey Henley over his head. “I’m perfectly comfortable with nudity, Mr. Shaw, just as long as you don’t expect this to turn into a porn audition.”

Shaw chuckles. “Not at all. I have an entirely different audition process for the videos we make.”

Somehow, Shaw’s nonchalance at his veiled dig only serves to spur him on, and Erik doesn’t hesitate to strip out of his jeans and boxer briefs too, kicking his socks and shoes off with a triumphant grin. “There, do I pass the test?”

He expects a quick once-over; for Shaw to check that he doesn’t have any hidden deformities or unseemly scars, and yes – that his penis is a sufficient size and appropriate to his body’s proportions. He does not expect the man to close the distance until they’re mere inches apart, and then slowly circle him, taking in the length and breadth of Erik’s body from every imaginable angle.

By the time Shaw steps back, Erik’s skin feels tight and hot all over, his cock half hard from nothing but the man’s piercing gaze. Those dark eyes linger on Erik’s lips, heavy with intent, before he abruptly turns and takes a seat again behind his heavy oak desk.

“I’ll have my assistant call you, to book your first shoot,” Shaw says, all business again, as Erik scrambles to pull his clothes back on, half aroused and sufficiently mortified by the way his body reacted to the scrutiny. “We’ll see how the pictures look and how you feel about nude modeling. And then we can talk about a contract, if we’re both interested.”

And then he’s being ushered out the door by a still smiling Shaw, who pats him on the back and gives his shoulder a light squeeze.

“Call me, Erik, if there’s anything you need,” he says. “My door’s always open, day or night.”

* * *

Erik spends the rest of the day thinking about Shaw, and wondering why he feels such a pull to a man two decades his senior (and his employer too, if this first shoot becomes more).

He calls Shaw two nights later, and agrees to meet for a drink.


	28. Tattoo Parlor AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 28\. Tattoo Parlor AU - Charles asks Erik about body piercing
> 
> Pairing: Cherik

Erik comes out of the break room to find Logan at the counter, eyes seemingly glued to the man he’s chatting with; presumably their next appointment at five o’clock. From the back, all he can make out is a nice ass in a pair of tight jeans, which he guesses is the reason Logan looks so focused; like whatever the guy’s spouting is the most interesting thing he’s ever heard in his damn life. It’s honestly a little hilarious to see, given Logan’s usual M.O., which is being a massive prick to everyone he’s not actively trying to seduce.

He takes a sip of his coffee and heads over when Logan sees him and waves.

“This is Erik,” Logan says with a grin, something almost predatory in the way he’s smirking as his eyes flit between Erik and the client. “He does all the piercings here. Has a mutation that lets him control metal. You got any questions about it; he’s your guy.”

“Oh wonderful,” the client – the _exceptionally cute_ client with blue eyes, red lips and soft, wavy looking hair – says when he turns around, the full weight of his gorgeous smile hitting Erik like a ton of bricks. “I have _lots_ of questions about it. I’m Charles.”

“Hi.” He shakes the proffered hand and stares, and almost forgets to let go when Charles pulls his hand back with a smile. Cursing himself internally, he gestures awkwardly to his station with a tilt of his head. “Do you want to take a seat, and tell me what you’re interested in getting done?”

Behind them, Logan is pulling a face and making extremely rude gestures with his hands, all X-rated signals about Charles and Erik like he’s a goddamn twelve year old. Erik gives him the finger before turning his back on him, and ushering a still smiling Charles to take a seat in his comfortable leather chair.

“So,” Erik asks, once they’re both seated and he’s a little less flustered, now that he’s in his space and feeling a bit more in control. “What kind of piercing are you looking to get?”

Charles leans shamelessly into Erik’s personal space and grins. “Well…what kind of piercings do you do, Erik?”

“Everything. Anything,” he says with a smile, because yes it’s been a while but Erik knows when he’s being flirted with, no matter what Emma says about his inability (unwillingness) to pick up on social cues. “Ears, eyebrow, nose, lips, tongue, nipple, bellybutton…”

“And?” Charles’ eyes drag down, down, _down_ , to settle hot and heavy on Erik’s crotch, and making him almost laugh out loud by the comical way he’s wagging his eyebrows. “You did say _everything_. Does that include genital piercings too, hmm?”

Erik nods, and does _not_ flush hot under his collar at the thought of piercing Charles’ genitals with his powers, _no he doesn’t_.

“Yes, I’ve done piercings on male and female organs. I can recommend something specific, depending on what your goal is…whether you want something that’s more decorative, or something to enhance stimulation during sex.”

“Oh definitely the latter,” Charles breathes, then he looks straight into Erik’s eyes and adds with great emphasis, “do you have piercings too? Down _there_?”

Now it’s Erik’s turn to laugh, considering all the places he’s very obviously pierced – both ears, his nose, and his tongue - that aren’t currently covered by this clothes. “I do. I have piercings on my nipples and bellybutton too.”

“Can I see them?” Charles asks. “ _All_ of them?”  
  
Shocked, Erik wheezes, “What, _now_?”

“Now, or if you’d prefer, I could buy you dinner first, and you can give me a private consultation?”

He thinks about it for half a second, and then he’s grabbing his wallet and keys and hustling a grinning Charles towards the front door. “Definitely dinner first, and then we’ll do a hands on demonstration.”


	29. Bodyguard AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 29\. Bodyguard AU - Erik tells Dr. Xavier about a life altering decision
> 
> Pairing: Erik/Shaw, Cherik

With twenty minutes left in their session, Xavier sets his notes down and leans forward in his chair. “Erik, are you ready to tell me the real reason you’re here?”

He looks up from his new watch to meet Xavier’s eyes, cataloguing details about his shrink as he lets the question hang unanswered. Xavier looks tired today, his eyes bruised and a little bloodshot, the collar under his grey suit ever so slightly loose and askew. There’s also a takeout cup of coffee on his desk and a breakfast sandwich wrap in his trash bin; Xavier slept poorly and got up late, and had to rush through his morning routine to make their eight o’clock appointment.

He doesn’t think anyone else meeting Dr. Xavier today is likely to pick up on those subtle clues. 

After all, none of the man’s other patients are undercover cops, or masquerading as a bodyguard for the city’s most notorious mobster.

(He knows this, because he looked into Xavier’s background thoroughly, and swept his office for bugs the night before their first session.)

Mentally, he flips through a few possible answers, dismissing one after another until he settles on something innocuous, and true. “I haven’t been able to sleep.”

“Is this a new development?”

Yes it’s a new fucking development, Erik wants to say, recalling the memory of Shaw’s face as he watched Erik open his gift, a steel grey and chrome Cartier watch worth more than ten grand. The feel of Shaw’s hands on him, as he pulled Erik into a kiss…

“Yes.”

Xavier waits for Erik to continue, and when he doesn’t, merely prompts, “Something’s happened recently, that’s causing it, yes? Do you want to talk about it?”

He does, because Erik’s been living a double life for years, and there’s no one else in his life he can trust – not even MacTaggert, who sent him undercover in the first place. There’s been too much blood spilled - much of it by his own hand – for the NYPD to ever welcome him back into the fold once his assignment is over. For better or worse his life is inextricably tied now to Sebastian Shaw, and the man’s _interest_ in Erik only complicates an already complicated situation.

(Like how he’s feeling increasingly disconnected from his old life as a cop, and more and more like the mob bodyguard he’s pretending to be.)

He can’t tell Xavier everything, but he does say, “I’ve been given an opportunity, to get much closer to my goal.”

“That’s a good thing, isn’t it?”

Is it a good thing, he wonders, literally getting into bed with Shaw? Fucking his target to maintain his cover and gain better access to the inner workings of Hellfire? Perhaps the mean would indeed justify the end, if the end meant putting Shaw behind bars for the rest of his life.

(He does not tell himself or Xavier, that a part of him _likes_ Sebastian Shaw, more than a little, and the life Erik leads at his side.)

_“You have a decision to make, dear boy,” Shaw says, stroking his fingers tenderly through Erik’s hair as he pulls away from their kiss. “I’m offering you a real place in this organization. Not just as my bodyguard but as my proper right hand.”_

_“And if I’m happy where I am? If I want to stay as your bodyguard and nothing more?”_

_“Erik, Erik,” Shaw croons, as he pours wine in both their glasses, the two settling onto the leather couch. “In life, there’s only going forward. There’s no going back.”_

He watches Xavier watching him, and offers a wry smile. “It is. Though I’m afraid where the path will lead me, if I take this next step.”

Xavier smiles. “If? Or when? You’ve spoken enough about this task of yours, and the importance of getting it done. I think you already know what you’re going to do, and you’re trying to reconcile that decision in your head.”

In another life, Erik thinks, Xavier would have made a good lover, or a better – and much needed - friend. It’s an idle thought, and not one that Erik indulges in for more than a few moments.

“You might be right,” Erik says, “does that mean I’ll sleep better once I acknowledge I’ve made the choice?”

“I think you should let me know how it goes, when you come in for your next appointment.”

* * *

It’s a half hour after Erik leaves, before Charles picks up the phone and dials Shaw’s number.

“Hello, Charles.”

He takes a deep breath and exhales. “He’s going to take your offer.”


	30. Magic AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 30\. Magic AU - Dark Mage!Erik takes Paladin!Charles prisoner
> 
> Pairing: Cherik
> 
> Directly follows my fic [What Night Brings the Dawn](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14111658)

Charles woke to the feel of silk against his skin, his aching body pressed into the plush folds of a large, red canopied bed. His arms and legs were bound securely in bonds of writhing shadow; tentacles of dark magic that suppressed even the most basic of spells. It did not take long to realize what had transpired in the last moments before Erik’s escape, when Charles had foolishly and impulsively allowed old ties to blind him to his enemy’s guile.

Again.

“Oh Erik,” he sighed bitterly. ”You utter _bastard_.”

A warm chuckle came from his left, and when he turned his head he found Erik watching him, seated in an armchair by the open window.

“Hello, Charles,” he said, greatly amused it seemed by the reaction garnered from his unwilling captive. Erik looked much better now than the last time he’d laid eyes on him, after four days in the bowels of the Order’s Grand Chapel, chained and bound by holy magic. The sick pallor of his skin had disappeared along with the wounds in his flesh, seared by the Light as it fought to contain Erik’s immense power over Night and Shadow. “You’re finally awake. I thought perhaps the spell hit you harder than expected.”

“Why bring me here, Erik? When you could have easily killed me instead?” It was not sentiment he knew, or any lingering feelings over what _was_ ; between them it was Erik who was ever practical, and ruthless and determined in accomplishing his goals. Whatever reason he had for bringing Charles to his fortress, it could only spell doom; for his Order, and potentially for all of Genosha herself.

Erik stood, and came to look down upon Charles sprawled across the bed. Clad in robes and helm of dark purple and gold, he was achingly handsome, elegant and austere in equal measure. He was born to lead, and would have made a better High Lord than Charles could ever hope to be, if only…

If only he hadn’t cast everything aside – the Light, the Order, and even his own bond mate over Shaw’s betrayal, and embraced the dark magic of the Eternal Night.

“I’ve never wanted you dead,” Erik said, as he sat next to Charles and brushed the hair tenderly from his forehead. “It is you, and your paladins who have been relentless in pursuit, chasing me and my followers from one end of Genosha to the other. And you, my love, who would have had me executed less than a day ago, if not for a last minute change of heart.”

Charles bristled. “You killed _hundreds_ of our brothers and sisters, Erik! You didn’t think I would simply let that go, did you?”

“I think you forget who it was that started your ‘Holy War’,” he said with a disdainful snort. “You forced us to defend ourselves against you, when we simply wished to practice the Shadow arts—”

“It is forbidden!” Charles cried. “Have you forgotten all your teachings, Erik? You, who rose to the rank of Knight Commander at twenty five? Shaw’s named successor to the rank of High Lord?”

His composure shattered, Erik grabbed Charles’ chin and closed the distance, fingers digging into flesh and snarled, “How dare you speak to me of Sebastian Shaw! He murdered my parents and stole me away, filling my head with nothing but filthy lies about my people! The Order of Light has taken _everything_ from me, and given naught but pain and heartbreak in return!”

Charles’ heart ached for him, and for the boy he knew and loved for all those long years, as they trained side by side as the Order’s best and most promising recruits. Even now, he could not regret loving Erik, and bonding their souls together in life and beyond.

“Was there truly nothing?” Charles asked, and Erik’s hand instantly stilled, his long fingers no longer bruising but infinitely gentle as he continued, “Not even our love, Erik? Our bond? Were we not happy once? Those years we spent together, going on assignments and greeting each new dawn in each other’s arms?”

Erik’s steely gaze softened even further, and he brushed his lips against Charles’ in an echo of that past devotion. “I’ve never been happier, before _or_ since those halcyon days at your side. But that is yet another debt the Order owes me, Charles. For taking that which I love more than life and setting him as my greatest enemy.”

“And what do you intend to do then, now that I’m here?” Charles asked, his breath hitching as Erik ran his hand down his chest, and slid under the thin sheet that covered him. “You cannot keep me prisoner forever. They will come for me, Raven and Logan, and the others, and they will not stop until they raze this place to the ground. They will fight you to the last, Erik, even if all that’s left to recover are the rotted remains of their High Lord.”

Erik shook his head and laughed. “Let them come,” he said, as he unfastened his intricate robes and let them fall from his shoulders. “I will have what I need from you, Charles, long before your men can scale this mountain and breach the walls. Fate has delivered me a winning hand, and together, you and I will harness the Crucible, and take Genosha by force.”  
  
And then Erik kissed him, and Charles felt himself fall.


End file.
